


Deconstruction

by usedupshiver



Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Humiliation, Loki Angst, Loki Feels, Loki Has Issues, M/M, Masochism, Medical Torture, Psychological Torture, Rape, Sadism, Tony Stark Absolutely Does NOT Have A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony-centric, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-14 13:32:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 47,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2193633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usedupshiver/pseuds/usedupshiver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Tesseract is gone, and so is the Glowstick of Destiny, both taken away in the aftermath of the Battle of New York. Only one piece of alien technology is left on Earth to tinker with – Loki. And Tony Stark has managed to get the exclusive rights to do just that.</p><p>The world was saved in the end, but that's no reason not to avenge it. Tony means to do so, wholeheartedly, and there is nothing and no-one in his way. Because human rights only apply to human beings, and Loki is no such thing...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost in Space

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Deconstruction (Traducción. Original de usedupshiver)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2308757) by [calipso_watts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/calipso_watts/pseuds/calipso_watts)



> Fair warning:  
> To anyone who has read [Drowning Sorrows](http://archiveofourown.org/series/134526) and/or [Prince Lockaway](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2042172/chapters/4434342) and is here for the feels, fluff and smut, I'm sorry, but this is not the fic you are looking for.
> 
> All the warnings and tags above apply or will apply. This one won't be pretty...

Tony Stark was dead.

No-one had any idea he was, of course, since this man who looked like him, dressed like him and answered to his name was still walking around in the world, giving snappy remarks and drinking scotch like it was water. But that wasn't him. Not really. That was a ghost. A haunting. A poltergeist, ready to tear shit apart.

Tony Stark had died somewhere in the depths of unknown, uncharted space, carrying a nuclear warhead on his shoulders.

The ghost thought it might have been in the moment that call to Pepper failed to connect. When the last light flickered out inside that helmet. And it might very well have been so, although the ghost didn't really care. It had only one thing on its mind.

_Unfinished business._

That's the thing with ghosts, isn't it? The thing that creates them?

The ghost of Tony Stark often dreamed of that visit on the other side of the worm hole. It also often dreamed of a sidewalk coming up to meet him. And in the dreams, that meeting took place. No suit came to snatch him out of the air. It was all just him and the concrete, up close and fucking personal.

He might be dead, but the ghost was starting to think that was actually an advantage. Because the real, living Tony Stark would have stood by and let his unfinished business be taken away, where it could never, ever be finished. While the ghost refused to.

Because the unfinished business had a name and a face, and another thing coming.

This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

And until it was, the ghost of Tony Stark could never rest in peace. He would walk the earth, wishing his own death avenged, forever if he had to, and nothing else mattered.

His unfinished business was Loki, and by the sheer force of his will, the perseverance reaching from beyond his non-existent grave, the ghost of Tony Stark had been granted his last living wish.

Loki belonged to the ghost now.

Left in the hands of a poltergeist, ready to tear shit apart.


	2. In the Name of Science

When Loki was delivered to him, Tony spent the first two days observing.

It was easy enough. He had modelled the cell after the glass cage they had used last time, but with his own modifications, to make it suitable for more than temporary storage. This was meant to last, after all. For as long as he could manage to draw it out.

The cell that held Loki in Stark Tower was square rather than round, placed in a corner, cameras constantly documenting any movement. And sometimes Tony was content to watch the recordings, or the live feed, but a lot of time was also spent in the lab, watching first hand.

He had expected there to be talking. Maybe even a lot of it. Loki had been all about that before, after all. He had expected arguments, rage, threats, any or all of it. All there was, though, was silence. When Tony was in the room, Loki kept to the back of the cell. Staring, sneering, snarling. Not a word out of him. Ever.

Loki looked very different without the black leather or flashing gold. Here, he was just a man dressed in simple, gray pants and a t-shirt in the same colour. Even his hair looked softer, less spikey. He was still tall, broad-shouldered, moving like a cat, and now also showing defined muscles in the bare arms. Sure. All of it. But everything otherwordly about him was stripped away.

Odin had seen to the last part.

When Tony had gotten his way, been allowed to keep the defeated conqueror, Thor hadn't been pleased. No, actually, that was a horrible, fabulous understatement. He had been livid. But not even a thunderously roaring Thor had been enough to change Tony's mind, once it had been made up.

It had, however, delayed the gift he had been promised from Asgard, since Thor refused to bring it to him. Even after the decree had come that the All-Father had granted Tony's wish, Thor had refused to accept it. And he absolutely would not meet Tony. 

Instead a darkhaired, armoured woman of few words had showed up in the Tower, carrying what he had been promised. What he would need to make this work.

The ornamented wooden chest the woman had brought him had contained four metal cuffs, almost cloth thin and very light. His scans would not recognize the material as anything in existance, but it looked a lot like white gold. Smooth hinges on one side, an opening with no visible lock or closure on the other.

Back then, Loki had still been kept at SHIELD, heavily sedated. But Tony had insisted he be the one to put the things on. He had needed to do it. Badly.

The cuffs had fit perfectly around Loki's ankles and wrists, close enough to the skin to be impossible to slip off, but not too tight. And when they closed, any sign of hinges or cracks or edges where gone. The surface completely unbroken.

All of them in place, Tony had found himself staring down at the unconscious figure. That was when the triumph had really started to kick in and take hold. When it started to feel _real_.

”I hope you can hear me, you son of a bitch.” Tony placed his hands on the metal railing of the hospital bed, leaning in to watch the pale face. ”With these things on, you can forget about magic. That's all over.”

No movement, of course. Loki's face was just smooth and still. It was healed now, no trace of the beating the Hulk had given him.

”They'll keep you looking like this. None of that icy, blue fuckery I've heard about. But trust me, that's just for my convenience. Not yours.” Tony straightened. ”Beyond that, though? Yeah, you're cut off, pal.”

The peaceful look of Loki on the bed pissed him off too much after that, and he had to leave again. Or he'd have done something he'd regret. But he knew then that he was getting what he wanted. And he could wait.

Might as well try this delayed gratification thing on for size, right?

Under the gray pants he wore in his cell, the cuffs on Loki's legs were out of sight now, but the ones on his arms were visible, and as long as they were in place, Tony was sure the other two were as well. Given the fact that Loki was still where Tony had locked him up, no sign of attempted escape by magic, they seemed to do exactly what they were meant to.

Loki didn't really attempt much at all during those first days. He placed himself on the bed in the corner, his back where the two walls met, legs crossed in front of him, hands resting on his thighs. Then he hardly moved from that spot, except to drink water and eat food when it was delivered. 

So at least he wasn't trying to starve himself. Good. That would have made everything a lot more complicated. Not impossible, of course, just more tedious than it needed to be.

When Tony was in the lab, Loki never sat still, though. He never moved close to the glass walls of his prison, but he was always on his feet, always moving, always watching. Tony knew this alien creature was studying him as well. But that didn't matter, because this time, there was no way out. 

Loki was shit out of luck. He just didn't know it yet.

During the observations, Tony never spoke to Loki either. He was just watching, and waiting. 

He knew the isolation in this clinically bare cell was a form of torture all on its own. Had to be even worse for someone who seemed as restless as Loki. After all, he hadn't chosen this imprisonment, there were no mindcontrolled minions coming to bust him out, and he just had to get used to this being permanent. Shit like that would mess with anyone. Especially if you usually could magic yourself around at will.

Wasn't life just a bitch?  


  


* * *

  


On the third day, Tony turned off the timer on the lights in the lab.

Before, they had been lit for sixteen hours, and off for eight, giving a nice and regular rythm to the days in this windowless place. Now, they never switched off.

His night vision cameras and the readings from the cell had told him Loki had slept for those dark hours before, regular as the timer. Like a chicken stuffed into a sack, thinking it was nighttime. With the harsh, cold lights always on, Loki stayed awake for 43 hours straight. Maybe he didn't even realize. It wasn't like he had a watch in there to keep track. 

Tony stayed away during those hours, not giving Loki anything at all to measure the passage of time by. He even stopped the automated delivery of food and water. Instead Tony spent the time going over all the medical tests SHIELD had performed on Loki while he was in their care. And the results sure were something. An immune system that could probably chew up and spit out anything Earth had to offer. His cells regenerated like crazy, and nothing seemed to weaken them. At least not on a scale Tony could measure.

Thor had told him asgardians could live for thousands of years. Loki wasn't one, of course, but with results like these, old age sure wasn't something he would have to worry about for a long time.

But then again, now old age would never be a problem. Loki wouldn't need his retirement savings, after all.  


  


* * *

  


Towards the end of his 43 hours awake, Loki's behaviour changed.

He left his place in the corner, following the glass walls back and forth at a slow pace. Loki's eyes moved restlessly over the lab outside, his hands repeatedly turned into fists and then relaxed again. Then he stopped, stood staring into nothing for a long time, before he returned to the bed.

This time, Loki curled up on the mattress, knees and head against the wall, searching shadow, an arm over his head.

He fell asleep like that, eventually, but he didn't sleep well.

Tony watched the recorded movements and readings from the sensors in the mattress, and smiled. The smile wasn't pretty.

”Sweet dreams, asshole”, he told the image of the turned back on the monitor.

He set his alarm to go off four hours later. That should be enough to give Loki some rest, and still keep him groggy.

That was when Tony was going to break this silence.  


  


* * *

  


A knock on the glass wall was enough to rouse Loki from his uneasy sleep. He started, twisted around on the narrow bed, caught sight of Tony and stared. The pale skin had an almost greyish tint to it, the eyes redrimmed and blodshot. It sure looked like Tony's timing had been spot on.

Tony sat back on the high stool he had pulled up from one of the tables in the other end of the room, to place a yard or so from the glass. He'd never come this close before, since Loki had been put in the cell, and he could see those sleepclouded eyes trace him from head to foot. Instinctively. Searching for threats or weaknesses. Cornered animal reflexes.

”No need to ask if you slept well”, Tony said, holding the tablet with the readings from the last hours, turning it so Loki could get at least a peek at the curving graphs. They formed something like the Himalayas. ”Looks like you slept like shit, to be honest.”

Loki had thrown his legs off the bed now, feet on the floor, leaning forward and the hands gripping the edge of the mattress hard enough to make his knuckles pure white. He hardly even glanced at the tab, preferring to keep his eyes on Tony.

Tony turned off the screen, placed the tab to rest flat against his thighs, and met the cold stare.

”No need to ask if you're hungry or thirsty either.” Tony raised his chin a bit. ”So, here's how this is going to go. You talk, and you get to eat and drink. Provided I like what you have to say, of course.”

Silence greeted this, but Tony hadn't really expected anything else.

”Not feeling chatty, huh?”

”What could I possibly have to say that would be to your liking, Stark?” The voice was gravelly and weary.

”Some good oldfashioned regret and begging for forgiveness would be a great start.”

Loki gave the expected snort. ”I have few regrets, and none of them involve you. And your forgiveness means less than nothing to me.” He sneered, white teeth flashing in the harsh light. ”I guess I will simply be starving then. How distressing.”

”Yeah, nothing about this is going to be simple. I'll promise you that much. So there is no need to be giving up already.” Tony's grin felt stiff. ”I actually guessed you wouldn't get that part right, so I put some easier questions on the exam as well.”

No answer, just more staring.

”I'm thinking you've noticed that your magic is turned off?”

”Yes.” It was a growl.

”Excellent.” Tony turned on the tablet again, picking up the plastic pen that went with it, ready to make notes if needed. ”Can you still feel it? Or is it all just... gone?”

Loki averted his eyes. Shadows showed flexing muscles in his jaw. ”I can tell that it is still there. I am blocked from reaching it.”

”Perfect.” The grin was more comfortable this time. Tony's plans were lining up nicely. He ticked a couple of items off his list. Swiping over to another application, he pressed an icon to let Loki have the water he'd been promised. Might as well let Loki get his hopes up.

Loki eyed the panel sliding open to push the plastic bottle into the cell. Then he turned back to Tony again. Clever enough to know there was more coming.

”What's the worst injury you have suffered and been able to heal, naturally? No magics?”

The hesitation was longer now. Tony could almost hear the cogs and gears in Lokis head spinning, trying to make sense of it all.

”My left arm was once crushed, from below the elbow down to my fingers. Splintered bone was coming out of my flesh.” Loki sounded distant, as if this story had nothing to do with him personally.

”How?” That one was pure curiosity.

”A hammer came down. I was in the way.”

” _Thor_ crushed your arm?” How's that for a surprise?

”Accidentally. He was horrified, of course. We were very young. None of us wanted to seek the healer's help, and tell anyone. We stayed away until it healed.”

”And that took how long?”

”If i remember correctly, about a day and a half.”

Tony had a brief mental image of the two brothers, hidden away in some alien woods, as Loki waited for that to heal up. Then he pushed it forcefully away. It didn't make any difference to what he was doing.

Another box ticked. A short note. Once more swiping over to get a serving of food into the cell.

”There's a good boy.” Tony got up from the stool, and walked away to one of the computers in the other end of the room, without looking at Loki. He plugged the pad in to enter his new findings into the project file, making the suitable adjustments. When he was finished, he glanced over to the glass prison again.

Loki still hadn't touched the food and water. He was standing closer to the wall than Tony had seen him come before, watching Tony intently, arms hanging by his sides.

”Not hungry?”

The question was ignored, Loki moving on to his own. ”What is the purpose of this, Stark?”

”That's not really any of your business.”

”Oh? I see it differently.”

”Doesn't surprise me even a little.” Tony turned off the tab and the computer, all done for the day. He walked over to the stool again, bringing the tab with him for later, resting the hand holding it on the seat. ”It really is none of your business, though. But I'll tell you one thing. I promised something good would come out of this. Something useful. And I'm going to make good on that promise.”

”Who was that promise made to, I wonder?”

”The guy who let me have you, of course. Your old man.”

”If you are attempting to refer to Odin as my father, you are all kinds of wrong.”

”I didn't mean it to be right. But yeah, that's the one.” Tony studied the fingernails on his left hand. They needed trimming. ”He didn't want you wasted, obviously. So I told him there was no need to worry.”

”Why is that?”

”Because all of this”, Tony smiled and made a geture to include the entire lab around them, ”is done in the name of science. Of course.”

”Of course.”

When Tony turned back, his smile withered and died. The raging ghost in his chest was rattling its chains, wanting to be let loose.

”I'll get whatever the fuck I can out of you, you nasty piece of shit.” He just managed to rein it in before it got completely away from him, just barely able to keep his voice controlled. ”Pick you apart, put you back together, turn you upside down and shake you to see what falls out. I'll drain you dry of every fucking sort of substance there is to you. And when I'm done, I'll throw whatever's left of you in the gutter. Where it belongs.”

For a few moments, they stared in silence. Then Loki's lips pulled back to let out a laugh, sharp and harsh.

”You are more skilled at making threats now than last we met.”

”Not really.” Tony shrugged, feeling his calm returning. ”I've never been that great at it, to be honest. The difference is probably that this wasn't me making a threat. Just another promise.”

He stared at Loki long enough to se the manic grin start fading. Then Tony slowly walked up to the elevator doors. When they had opened to let him in, he stepped inside, turning to face Loki again before they closed.

”Enjoy your meal.”

The last thing Tony saw of him through the closing gap was a snarling Loki hitting the glass with his fist, too enraged for words.

The ghost of Tony Stark laughed until he reached his private floor. Yeah, he was going to sleep really well tonight. He could tell.


	3. Dosage

Sipping his coffee by the kitchen table the next morning, Tony went over the recordnings and readings from the hours he had been asleep.

Loki hadn't slept, on the other hand. Even though Tony had woken him up so soon after his almost two full days awake. Maybe their little conversation had something to do with that? Wouldn't that be too bad?

He had paced the cell for a long time after Tony had left him. Once more he had hit the glass with his fist. Hard. When Loki had done it the first time, it had been with the meaty part under the little finger, arm over his head. This time, he lashed out and hit it straight on, with his knuckles.

It had some impressive force behind it, but nowhere near putting stress on the wall. And Tony didn't think that had been the purpose. Loki was the one under stress. That was just an attempt at relief.

There was a pattern of red stains left on the glass. Tony studied a close up shot of Loki's right hand, saw the raw, bloody knuckles slowly heal over.

It seemed as if the blow had actually relieved some stress, because efter that, Loki eventually settled down to eat and drink. Tony really had expected him to sleep after that, but he had just returned to his spot on the bed, sitting with his back in the corner, hands on his legs, staring into nothing. Or the lab outside. It was hard to tell.

Of course, the lights in the room had been on the whole night as well, but Loki had slept through that before, and Tony didn't think that was the reason he was still awake now.

Pushing his empty cup away on the table, Tony leaned back and swiped his way through older files he had saved, things he had gotten his hands on while hacking the helicarrier. Back then he hadn't really seen much use for it, just some ugly, slimy things getting caught in the net he had used to catch bigger fish. Now, he was glad they had.

There were all the recordings SHIELD had of Loki. His arrival through the portal, or at least the first part of those events, before the cameras had been knocked out. His performance in Stuttgart. His every second spent on the helicarrier.

Tony knew it all by heart already, but he went over it again. And then the old surveillance recording from their conversation in the Tower. He cut that one off before the inevitable end, though. That part of it he saw often enough in his nightmares.

And finally, he watched some of the footage from Loki's last visit with SHIELD, before Tony had made the necessary preparations. There wasn't much of interest in that, however. Just many, many hours of him unconscious, strapped to that bed. It wasn't really satisfying at all.

Putting the pad away, Tony let his gaze wander out through the window, not really seeing the morning sun over the city outside.

He had everything he needed. Everything he could possibly learn from observation alone, or from the results of the medical tests. There was nothing more he could get out of Loki this way. It was time to start moving to the next stage. Time to get more hands-on. But he had a lot of preparations that needed doing first, of course.

The cuffs blocking Loki's magic would likely hold back part of his physical power as well, he had been told, but not even close to all of it. Loki was still stronger and faster than Tony, still dangerous. Which wasn't news to Tony. After all, it wasn't Loki's magic that had gotten to him last time. That part had failed, and Tony had still gone flying. He wasn't planning on underestimating Loki this time. There would be no chances taken.

Tony put the cup in the dishwasher, and went to work.

As was his habit, Loki got up from the bed when Tony entered the lab. They shared a look that was pretty nasty on both parts, Tony guessed, but no words came out of anyone. Loki just continued watching as Tony made his way to a computer, turning it on, and flipping through a stack of papers on the desk beside it.

Everything he needed was right here. He had all the information he could get. Now, there was just a question of finding out the correct dosage to to the job.

Tony turned to face Loki, leaning with an elbow on the raised table.

”You remember the Hulk, right?”

Blank stare.

”I know, stupid question. Of course you do. Unless he gave you a bad enough concussion to knock it out of you. But somehow I doubt that very much.” Tony reached into his pocket, pulling out a vial filled with a yellow liquid, the colour bright enought that it almost seemed to glow in the light. ”Anyway. He's the reason I have this thing.”

Walking over to the wall beside the cell, Tony could feel the by now very red and probably sore eyes following him. He touched the sensor, and a panel slid away, revealing the controls for the high tech prison he had created. Carefully he opened the vial, and placed in a holder, attaching a tube. Spilling any of this would be bad. Then he turned back to Loki again.

”We were trying to find something that would calm him down when needed. Nothing really worked, of course, but this stuff actually was enough to slow him down a bit. So we ran a few more tests on it, before SHIELD decided it was just a bad idea all around.” Tony shrugged. ”I held on to it, though. Thought it might come to use.”

Loki was staring from his position by the bed, no movement in the drawn face.

”The lethal dose for humans is so rediculously small it's pretty much useless as anything but a poison. For you, on the other hand? Yeah, I don't know yet, but I think we'll have a hell of a time finding out.”

Tony made some adjustments to the controls, and then gave the command to release the first dose.

Loki heard the faint, hissing sound of the gas, and his head whipped up to se the yellowish cloud spread under the ceiling, and then slowly start falling down. He instinctively took half a step back, his shoulders hitting the wall behind him. Nowhere to go.

It was obvious that he was holding his breath as the yellow fog reached his head, filling the cell, but Tony knew that made no difference. The gas would find its way into his nose, eyes, even his ears, do its work on the membranes in there, getting into the bloodstream. Perhaps even through the pores of his skin? It might. That was why he had started out with a very small dose, trying to calculate the effects.

Killing Loki with the gas was not the plan. It was far too kind a way to do it.

With pad and pen in hand, Tony observed, taking the time, looking for a reaction. After five minutes, the fog had dissolved enough to no longer be visible. Loki was still standing against the wall, unmoving. He had started breathing again after just over three minutes. Tony made a note of that, as well. Good thing to know.

Loki's blinking had turned slow, lazy, but other than that, he seemed unaffected.

Another note, then Tony ventilated the cell, and went to get a stool. This was going to take a while, by the look of it. His legs were getting tired.

When he judged that enough time had passed, he released the next dose. Not much higher than the first, taking into account that some effects might still remain. The best way to do this would of course have been to let a lot more time pass between attempts. Hours. 

But Tony had had about all he could take of this delayed gratification bullshit.

It was do or die. Literally.

There wasn't much difference with the second dose. Or the third. By the fourth, though, he could see Loki's knees go weak.

Blinking in a heavy, forced way Loki shifted his weight, turned, and managed to seat himself on the bed next to him, rather than just collapsing on the floor. He was still sitting upright, but he needed to support himself with his hands to do it, his head fell forward of its own weight. Black hair fell down, hiding most of his face, but Tony could still make out when the red eyes turned on him, glaring.

He flashed a smile. ”Pretty great, isn't it? No effects on the mind what so ever, just takes out the ability to move, while leaving the automatic bodily functions intact.” He looked down on his pad to make the notes. ”Heartbeat, breathing, even blinking. All in working order. But as soon as you try a conscious movement? Nothing.”

When he raised his eyes again, Lok's head had fallen down more, chin resting against his chest.

”Of course”, Tony continued, ”you'll also have all senses in full working order. But I bet you guessed that. No use doing what I plan on doing if you can't feel, see, hear or smell any of it. Hell, taste it, even. Maybe.”

”In... The name... Of... Science.” Loki had a hard time getting the words out, but they were there.

”Exactly. You're catching on.”

By the sixth dose, Loki was on his side on the bed, motionless. The readings from the mattress were all nice and even, breathing and heartbeat doing their thing, just like Tony had said they would. But apart from that, no muscle movements were detected. Not even tension.

”Will you look at that?” Tony raised his watch to check it. ”Lunch time! And since you look busy, I might as well go eat.”

He stood and walked to the elevator, bringing the tab with him to keep an eye on things.

After two full hours the first signs of movement were registered, alerting Tony that the drug was wearing off. That was a lot better than he had even dared hope.

The worst part now, was waiting to let it get out of Loki's system, so he could do it again. Tony didn't want to overdo this. A body as resilient as Loki's, it would probably develop a raised tolerance pretty quickly if he wasn't careful. 

Tony spent the rest of the afternoon watching Loki first roll off the narrow bed, to fall on the floor, then slowly get up on hands and knees, head hanging down. Sipping a glass of scotch, making notes on his pad, he saw Loki get up on just his knees, supported by the edge of the bed. The tall body unfolded, slowly and awkwardly, until he was on his feet, and then could seat himself on the bed again.

Five hours after the last dose, Tony estimated that Loki was pretty much back to normal.

He celebrated with another drink.

It wasn't until the glass was half empty he realized he had a hardon pressing against the zipper of his jeans. Tony leaned back in the couch, head on the backrest, and smiled at the ceiling.  


  


* * *

  


”I told you not to call me, Pep.”

”I know. But I just had to tell you I'm really uncomfortable with this. What am I supposed to tell the press?”

”Honestly? I don't give a shit.”

”You should, Tony.”

”The list of things I should give a shit about is nearly endless by now. And that fact is one of the things on the list.”

”SHIELD sent word that Thor is working to persuade his father to go back on this deal. You give a shit about that?”

”If he has any kind of success I will consider it. Keep me updated. By mail. Don't call me.”

”Tony, I don't think -”

”Bye, Pepper.”  


  


* * *

  


That night Loki did sleep, ignoring the light room behind his back.

Tony let him. Testing the dosage next time would give more accurate results if Loki was at least half rested, after all. He let Loki eat and drink in peace as well, before he made his way to the lab.

For the first time, Loki didn't stand when Tony entered the room. He just remained in his corner, even leaning his head back against the wall, eyes almost falling closed, to watch Tony trough his eyelashes. He had learned, already, that there was no protection in keeping away, stying on his feet, ready. Any attack would come when he couldn't defend himself anyway.

On some level it made all of this even more satisfying. Intelligence made every form of suffering worse. Tony should know. Something mindless or just stupid would have been more likely to bore Tony, rather than giving him what he needed.

And he did need this. This and more. So much more. He hadn't even realized himself how much he really did until their little conversation the other night. Getting a reaction out of Loki had let him get an idea of exactly how satisfying this could turn out to be.

Anticipation sent cold shivers up his back, made his hair stand on end. He forced himself to rein it in, just a bit. Soon, the wait would hopefully be over.

Tony walked directly to the control panel, double checked the numbers, set the dose, and released it. Then he stepped up to the glass, close, to watch.

Loki eyed the by now familiar clouds of yellowish gas. He didn't move, but his thin lips pressed together into a line. There was clearly no doubt in his mind what was coming, he knew he was helpless, and he hated it. Tony was impressed, reluctantly, by how well he was hiding it, but he knew Loki would crack. Eventually. Even his poker face would drop before the end.

By the looks of it, Tony had managed to get the dosage more or less spot on this time. Loki was tense and stiff for a couple of minutes, waiting for the inevitable, but then his body relaxed, seemed to come apart at the hinges. His shoulders fell, his hands slid off his thighs, the black head tilted forward, but the back angled into the corner behind him kept him sitting upright.

It took longer to reach the full effect than desired, but that would be easy to fix, just a very slight increase would see to it. Not having to start all over again to get Loki to drop was enough to count as a success. The fact that he was on the bed was also an added bonus. Both because the readings would tell Tony if Loki was simply faking it (which he wasn't), and because it would help him with the logistics.

Tony had found all of the desired ways of controlling his prisoner, his science project, and it was time to take it out of storage and really get to work.


	4. Empirical Research

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A friendly warning: This chapter is where things start to get really messy - and messed up...)

Unlocking the cell made Tony slightly nervous, even though he was completely sure Loki was actually paralyzed and unable to move. But when he had stepped through the opening in the corner where the glass panes parted, walked up to the crumpled form in the corner, and nothing whatsoever happened, he felt calm again.

Tony unceremoniously grabbed a hold of Loki's ankles. He felt the hard surface of the metal cuffs under his pants as he closed his fingers tight around them, and pulled. First straightening out Loki's legs, then pulling him down further, until he was flat on his back on the bed.

Green eyes, a lot clearer and less bloodshot after a full night's sleep, could only stare up into the ceiling, blinking at regular intervals. Even moving the muscles of his eyes were beyond Loki.

Smiling, Tony got a small set of keyes out of a pocket, unlocking a panel in front of the bed. When it moved away, it turned the bed into a movable one, wheels, adjustable height, and anything he might need. Grabbing the edge of the bed, Tony leaned in over Loki, let the fixed eyes see his face.

”And if you're thinking about making things difficult for me in the future by not being on the bed when the gas comes, think again. I have ways to make coping with issues like that very easy for me, and potentially pretty uncomfortable for you. You're free to try it out, of course, and I kind of expect you to, but I might as well tell you it's useless.”

He straightened, and rolled the bed out of the cell, into the open space in the middle of the lab, between the glass enclosure and the tables in the other end. There he locked the wheels, set the height to where he would be able to work comfortably, and began by locking the metal restraints around Loki's arms and legs, on top of the cuffs aready in place.

No chances. No risks.

”These can be released remotely”, Tony explained as he fastened the last one. ”I won't have to do it in the cell with you when this is wearing off. Again, just to let you know which plans are useless to you.”

Close by, there was a table littered with various tools and instruments he thought he might have use of. At least at some point. But this was just the beginning.

Tony picked up a pair of scissors and cut the front of the t-shirt Loki was wearing, and then the front of the sleeves all the way to the collar, so the whole garment could be opened up. He then pulled it out from under Loki's back, removing it entirely.

After putting the t-shirt and the scissors away, Tony didn't pick up any other tool. Not yet. He put his fingertips on the edge of the bed, just using his eyes to begin with.

From the x-rays and scans and tests from SHIELD, he knew very well what Loki looked like on the inside. It was in pretty much every way the same setup as your average human, from function to placement, except for the part with the superior resilience and healing. But he had heart, lungs, intestines and all the other bits and pieces in there, under ribs and skin, just like Tony.

Nothing odd or fancy.

The outside was kind of fancy, though. Tony had to admit to that.

Loki was no Thor. For sure. His muscles didn't have the massive volume of that guy, but they were there. Lean and hard and flat. With his colouring, he looked a lot like he was carved out of marble. And almost felt like it, too.

Because, yeah, Tony couldn't resist getting his hands on what he saw. He was tired of just watching, observing, seeing what happened. To truly learn, you had to get your hands dirty. Tony knew that very well. And the time for that was now.

Tony used his hands and fingertips to feel and press and trace bones, muscles and tendons from where Loki's neck met his jaw, to the point where his hipbones dissappeared in under the gray pants. He left off there, for today. This was plenty to start with.

Loki was mostly smooth, his chest hairless. Tony saw two scars. One was on the inside of his left forearm, which seemed very old, pale and to have grown with his body, and Tony figured it was a memory from the all too close contact with Mjölner he had heard of before. The other was on the lower left side of his abdomen. It was a lot fresher, still red and the skin over it had that thin, shiny quality of tissues still knitting together and hardening.

Interesting. He had read about it in the reports, of course, but he had actually expected it to be gone by now. That had to have been a really bad injury for Loki to still be this marked by it.

”The next time we sit down to have a chat, I'll want to hear more about how you got this”, Tony said, letting his fingers move over the scar, to make sure Loki knew what he was talking about.

By then, Tony had done all the touching he had the patience for at the moment. He went to the table again and pulled on a pair of thin medical gloves, before picking up a simple scalpel, and then returning to Loki's side. Thoughtfully adjusting his grip on the instrument, he wondered where to start.

For today, he had no actual game plan. This was just, well, a test run. He had to find out how this healing thing worked, see it with his own eyes. 

In the end, Tony placed his left hand almost gently on Loki's chest, placed the tip of the scalpel just below the pit of his throat, and then made a long incision down the sternum, ending just below the hollow of the solarplexus. Not deep, just through the skin. 

The blood that started flowing was slightly darker than he would have expected out of a human, but he had noted this in the blood samples he had seen before. Perhaps that held some part of the explanation for his capacity for healing? Or just a natural variation?

The healing, though. Yeah, Tony got to see it up close now. He used a piece of paper to remove some of the blood, just to be able to see the tissues knit together, pulling the edges of cut skin back in place, smoothing everything out again. Until the blood was all there was.

Obviously, a straight, clean cut on its own was no challenge at all for this body.

No reason not to try again, though. Something happening once meant nothing after all. It had to be a pattern. Repeatable.

Science, right?

So Tony repeated it.

At first in the same place. Then in the same place, but three parallel lines in quick succession. He watched all of those close up the same way.

Blood was pooling in the pit of Loki's stomach by now. Drops of it running down his ribs onto the mattress. Which Tony had made resistant to liquids. Planning ahead.

Tony paused there for a moment, taking in the sight of it. His heart was beating so hard he could feel the pulse in his head. But his hands were sompletely steady. So he went back to work.

Getting braver and bolder now, he made the next cut on the right side of the abdomen. Sort of a mirror to the scar, which he decided to leave alone, for now. Until he knew more. This cut he made deeper, through skin, what little fat there was, into muscles.

It took longer, bled more, but the end result was the same as with the other cuts.

When he touched his gloved fingers to the healed surface, letting them glide through the blood, he realized his breathing had become heavy. Again, a hardon was making his jeans tighter than they should be. He blinked, pulling his hand back.

He had known this would all be something to enjoy. Getting his chance to avenge New York, himself, the others killed by this invading monster and his more or less willing allies. Something to take pleasure in, turning the revenge into something useful. He had expected satisfaction.

Tony had not, actually, expected it to be something that he would be taking a physical pleasure in as well. But he couldn't really explain away the erection, and the way his breathing was almost catching in his throat. The small twitches of excitement in his gut. No, he hadn't expected any of that, at all, but he knew his own body well enough to not even try to deny it.

He also knew this was a good time to back off and calm down. He shouldn't get too carried away. Not yet.

So he just watched for a while. Saw the green eyes blink up into nothing.

Before he started again.

When the first new cut went deep enough to scratch the bone of a rib he knew backing off had made no difference at all.

Tony had been wondering if Loki could really feel what was happening. It was so hard to know for sure, without sound or movement.

Gradually, he started noticing signs, however. Like the way Loki's breathing and heartrate was speeding up. He became even paler in the cheeks, sweat started breaking out on his body. His eyes were blinking more rapidly, almost filled the with wide, dilated pupils, pushing the green away to thin rings of colour. It was very clear that his still operational systems were working overtime. Even if every cut healed pretty quickly, a body is programmed to want to get away from injury and pain. 

Self preservation is a strong force. Right now, it was preparing Loki to fight or flee, filling his muscles with adrenaline and oxygen. Muscles he couldn't move.

The stress of the pain, the instinct to get away, and the complete immobility. It was all starting to get to Loki. Tony could see it. Loki couldn't move his eyes, but the look in them was even more staring than it had been. Maybe they were a bit wider? Was the drug wearing off?

There was a sheen to those eyes. And it wasn't all tears.

Watching the last cut heal over, Tony decided that this had to be enough for now. He had seen what he wanted to see, learned more than he had ever imagined he would. The next steps he wanted do take on with control, calm. It wouldn't do to waste all his careful preparations. Not when he'd come this far.

He put the scalpel on the table, picked up a spray bottle with an antiseptic solution, and sprayed the liquid over Loki's chest. The cold of it made goosebumps appear on the pale skin, tightened the just faintly darker nipples, and a tension became visible in the pectorals. Drug definitely wearing off, then. 

He would up the dose next time.

Tony pulled a few lengths of paper free from a roll, and wiped Loki clean, from neck to hip. Then he did the same to the mattress, as best he could with Loki still on it. He threw the paper and his gloves away, and remained staring at the still form for a while. Healed, clean, it seemed like nothing of what he had just done to the man had actually happened. No trace of it on that skin.

What would it take to leave scars? Like the one already on him? Tony felt a shudder move through him, and knew that he wanted to find out. Wanted it bad, too.

Slowly, Tony was pulled from his thoughts by the feeling of being watched. He faced Loki, and found that the green eyes had regained enough movement to now be looking at him instead of the ceiling. The expression in those eyes was impossible to make sense of. But the faint traces left behind by tears that had run down his temples were easier to interpret.

The real, living Tony Stark would have been overcome with horror at that point. At what he had done. And even more, at what he planned on doing. What he was shivering with anticipation to do.

The ghost that was standing in his place just grinned. 

Then he thought of something.

”Almost forgot.” Tony turned to a storage unit, and pulled out a gray t-shirt from a stack of identical items. He placed it across Loki's thighs. ”You'll probably want that, later.”

With that, Tony unlocked the wheels on the bed, rolled it back, lowered into place, sealed it in behind the panel, and left the cell, carefully locking it behind him. He went to pick up the tablet, and used the application that would release Loki from the restraints. He also made sure there would be food and drink in the cell in a couple of hours, when Loki would be coming around enough to eat.

Tony wanted to keep his project in working order, after all.

On his way to the elevator, Tony saw that Loki was still looking at him. What was behind those eyes was still a mystery, but Tony was starting to think that he didn't like it. Whatever it was.

He said nothing. And Loki couldn't.  


  


* * *

  


When Tony had reached his private suite, he poured himself a drink and then settled down on the couch, half on his back and one leg pulled up to lean the tab against his thigh. He drank and watched Loki.

Not much had happened in the cell, of course. Loki had pulled his arms from the unlocked restraints and placed them across his chest, almost protectively, but he was still flat on his back. The eyes were closed now, though. The eyebrows slightly drawn together, just enough for a hint of a crease to show between them.

Tony waited, refilled his drink twice in the meantime, but finally Loki managed to sit up. His still weak hands pulled at the t-shirt in his lap, fumbling with it, but at last getting it on. Dressed again, he sat still for a long time. Enough for Tony to fill his glass again. Then he moved himself back into his usual position in the corner.

Well, it wasn't exactly his usual position, Tony noticed. Instead of a straight back resting against the walls, hands relaxed on his thighs, Loki was now leaning forward, folded in on himself. His elbows were on his knees, and he had combed his fingers into his hair, face mostly hidden behind his arms. The eyes still seemed closed, though.

Tony emptied his glass, smiled at the curled up figure on the screen, turned off the pad to place it on the table, then the glass next to it. He sat on the couch for a long time, staring into nothing. Inside him, the warmth from the liquor was mixing with the events of the day, and he felt the excitement come sneaking back into him. It worried him in a way. What if he did something rash, cutting this whole thing short?

He shook himself, got up and walked to the bedroom, and then into the ensuite, to turn on the shower. Under the warm water, he had hoped to relax, get his mind off it all. At least for a moment.

It didn't work. 

When he closed his eyes, washing shampoo out of his hair, all he could see was blood pooling on white skin. He had to rub his eyes clean so he could open them, getting rid of the sight, leaning with one hand on the wall to support himself when his knees got weak.

Tony knew that the right reason to want to get rid of those mental images was feeling horrified. Deep inside, the man who had been Tony Stark knew that. 

The ghost wasn't horrified.

And realizing this, he slid his free hand down his waterslick stomach, to find his cock hard enough to almost push against it. Closing his fingers around himself, he leaned his forehead against the back of the hand of the wall, and slowly closed his eyes again. Inviting those images back.

Tony groaned against the tiles, stroking his length, seeing blood.

He hadn't cum that fast, or that hard, since he was a teenager.


	5. Scar Tissue

”You remember what I told you we would be talking about?” 

Tony had brought an office chair to the lab this morning. The high stool he had been using before was okay for just resting his legs for a while, but it wasn't really that comfortable. Now he could lean back, the ankle of his right leg above the knee of his left, the tablet in his lap. He was sitting pretty close to the glass, and had to tilt his head back a bit to face Loki, since he was standing on his side, at about the same distance from the wall.

Loki's stance was surprisingly relaxed. His feet were about at shoulderwidth apart, his hands clasped behind his straight back. Watching Tony with his head slightly tilted forward, eyes bright and... curious?

Was it all just an act, to show Tony how unaffected he was by yesterday's events? 

With him, it was hard to tell. But at least he was physically back in shape, no traces of the effects of the drug, or the injuries. He had some bloodstains on the back of his t-shirt, Tony had noticed, but the shape and placement told him it was just what had rubbed off from the mattress he hadn't been able to clean properly.

And, well, honestly, if Loki felt like showing a brave face, Tony didn't mind. At all. It wasn't as if he had expected him to give up and go cry in a corner anyway. Loki wasn't the kind that gave up easily, Tony was damn sure of that much.

”I do.” The voice was just as effortless as his posture.

”Well, then. Get to it.”

”You think the answer will mean anything to you, Stark?”

”Try me.”

”'Twas a form of magic that gave me that wound. Before I even came to this sorry excuse for a realm.”

”Guessed as much.” Tony made a note anyway. ”Who or what did that to you?”

”That, I cannot tell you.”

”And why is that?”

”I have no memory of the event.”

"But you know magic did it?"

"For the same reason you made the very same assumption, Stark. It is still marking me, is it not?"

"Can't argue with that. And you had it before coming through the portal? What did it look like then?"

"By then, it was just starting to close up. The scar has been forming since."

Tony nodded absently, making notes, in the back of his mind remembering the way Loki had looked in the footage from his arrival. Pale, shadowy, drawn, pretty much just a skull under sweaty skin. He sure hadn't seemed to be in such a great condition. It didn't surprise Tony to find out this injury had been hiding under his leather armour.

"Does it hurt, still?" He looked up as he asked the question, wanting to see any reaction to it.

There wasn't any. And no answer either. Which, sort of, was an answer in itself. But Tony wasn't satisfied with that.

"Talk, or I make you."

Loki bared his teeth, like a wolf. 

"Yes!" A snarl more than a word, almost. "It still hurts me. Constantly. Does that answer _please_ you?"

"Sure does." Tony kept his face and voice calm.

The not too subtle hint wasn't lost on him, though. Loki was telling him he was very aware of the effect Tony's actions had had on him. That he'd enjoyed himself, and in what way. Part of Tony hadn't been sure, because, well, Loki had had other things to worry about right then. But he was starting to learn that pretty much nothing passed Loki by unnoticed.

It made no difference in the end, of course. The ghost didn't know shame.

Perhaps it was even a good thing? If Loki knew this was something Tony wanted, for more reasons than he had already spoken of, for more than the obvious revenge, he also had to know that Tony wouldn't back down. Wouldn't stop. Anything that could help break Loki, rip every last shred of hope from him, was something Tony welcomed.

Had to give it to the guy that he hid and handled pain well, at least. Loki was like a predator that way. One that would feign health and strength up until it just dropped down dead, and no-one would ever even have known it was sick or suffering. Never showing weakness.

Tony wanted to put an end to that charade. But he was beginning to see that it wouldn't be easy.

That was just fine by him, though. He had time.

”It would also please me to get a closer look at it. Real close.” Tony turned the tablet off, got up and put it on the seat of the chair, before starting to pull it towards the controls on the wall. ”So that's what's on the agenda for today. To start with, at least.”

”Guessed as much.”

Tony glanced over when he heard his own words repeated. ”Figures. You know everything about just doing whatever the fuck you want, right?”

No answer.

As he tapped the button to release the gas, the dose slightly increased, to get this started, Tony wondered if Loki would test him about not being on the bed when he went down. Like he had said, he expected that to happen, expected Loki to test everything in his, very limited, power. The tiny things he could do to even slightly complicate matters, were probably exactly what he would choose to do, even though they made no real difference, what so ever.

Once more, though, Loki proved that the only thing you could expect, was him not ever doing what you expected him to.

When he heard the hiss of gas, Loki gave Tony one last toxic glare, and then slowly walked over to the bed. He sat down, then placed himself flat on his back, ankles crossed, hands resting under his neck. As nonchalant a placement as was fucking possible.

Tony couldn't really help staring, but it didn't matter, since Loki was already looking up into the ceiling, and wouldn't know he did.

Well, that answered that question, then. This time around, at least. No guarantee the next one would be the same.

On to the next question of the day. The important one.

Tony walked into the cell, and couldn't resist leaning in over Loki, before locking the bed free. Smiling, he let the back of his fingers gently caress a concave cheek.

”Now, wasn't that nice of you?”, Tony mumbled, a caricature of grateful kindness passing his still softly smiling lips. ”This might still be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Don't you think?”

If looks could kill, Tony would have dropped there and then.  


  


* * *

  


Cutting into the red scar tissue somehow felt worse than cutting smooth, healthy skin. Even though it probably should have been the other way around. But what he was doing now, on the other hand, had more purpose than his previous experiments, and so he made sure that he cut deep, made it count.

The still weak tissues parted even more easily than sound skin and muscle had before, but then, halfway through the incision, Tony's blade hit something. Something hard. Where there shouldn't be anything but soft tissues. He frowned, but completed the movement, opening the entire scar, before turning to quickly put the scalpel away and pick up a pair of tongs, and a large wad of paper.

Holding the wound open, not letting it close, he blotted away some of the blood, and then used the tongs to feel around for whatever he had hit before. It was more pure luck than anything else when he managed to both find and grab it on his third attempt. The sound it made when he pulled it out of the wound, fighting to heal up around it, was one of the most sickening things Tony had ever heard.

He hoped Loki had heard it as well.

He placed the tongs and the foreign object, covered in blood and gore, on the table. What the hell _was_ that? None of the x-rays or scans had shown anything on the inside of Loki that shouldn't be there. And whatever this was, it sure was solid enough that it should have been clearly visible.

Magic. Fucking magic!

Thinking he would clean the thing and find out what it actually was, Tony almost didn't notice what happened to the wound he had now let go of. But then he saw it close itself up, just like all the other cuts. It knitted together, just as quickly, edges finding each other and healing up, from the bottom up to the surface.

Curious, Tony got more paper, wiping away enough of the blood to se the end result.

"Well. How about that?" He huffed a laugh.

There was still a scar, sure, but it was no longer red and inflamed. The skin looked thick and strong, the scar tissue almost silvery instead of shiny pink. It now looked like it had healed up nicely, cleanly, months ago.

Tony put a bloody, gloved hand on Loki's jaw, angling his head until their eyes met. "Guess I just accidentally did you a favour, didn't I? Don't worry, though. I'll make up for that mistake later."

It was impossible to be sure, but Tony could have sworn he saw a glint of what had to be a smile in Loki's eyes. Even though they were still brimming and overflowing with tears the pain had forced out of him.

Bastard.

Tony squeezed the jaw harder, then let it go with a flick of his wrist, turning Loki's head away from himself completely. The angle looked uncomfortable. Which was, of course, just perfect.

”Just for that, I'll leave you right there while I find out what you've been carrying around. And no, you can't watch.”

Using the antiseptic liquid, Tony washed off the worst of the blood, then he scraped off the tissues that had stuck to it, trying to heal around it. That tissue didn't exactly look healthy. Whatever this was, it sure had done a number on Loki's body. And that was saying something, with his regeneration and insane immune system.

Judging by the sound when the instruments scraped it, the thing wasn't metal. It was very hard, however, dense, and heavy for its size, no bigger than Tony's little finger. It was about the same length, had three sides, all sharp but uneven, as if it had been broken off something bigger. Frowning, letting a finger follow the slight curve of it, Tony wondered if this wasn't a very small part of some edged weapon? Something that had broken off a blade of some kind, when used on Loki?

The only thing he knew for sure, was that handling the thing had to be a bad idea, considering what it had done to Loki. So Tony found a glass vial large enough to seal the object in, putting it away for later. He was going to need help analyzing this. But that was a later problem.

Tony cleaned away everything that had touched the alien shard, even the gloves he had been wearing, exchanging them for new ones. Only after that did he turn back to Loki, who was still in the position he had left him. The drug was working better this time. The dosage seemed spot on now.

Not picking up any tool, Tony walked back to the bed. With Loki's head turned away, he wouldn't have any chance of seeing what Tony was planning on doing next, not even a flicker of it in his peripheral vision. (Which gave Tony the idea of bringing a blindfold the next time. He made a mental note of it. Couldn't hurt, right?) Unseen, he ignored Loki's bloody torso and didn't stop until he was by the narrow hips, covered by gray pants.

He'd kept himself from passing below the belt last time, but this seemed like a good time to move forward. After digging whatever-it-was out of Loki's abdomen, Tony had pretty much had his fill of blood for the day anyway. The sound of ripping it free was probably going to replay in his head for weeks.

Undoing another man's pants felt strange, even considering everything else he had already done. Grabbing the top of them to pull them down felt even stranger, but Tony didn't stop until they were bunched up by Loki's restrained feet anyway.

Just like his upper body, Loki's legs were pale, and mostly hairless. Most of the growth was on his calves, and around his genitals. But the hairs were finer, shorter and straighter, than anything you'd find on a human male. 

Sleek, was the word that came to Tony's mind, trying to describe the look of the man as a whole.

But other than looking like he had been recently groomed, there was nothing more off about the way Loki was shaped on the lower half of his body than the upper. All the expected parts, in all the expected places. Tony took a couple of steps back, to take in the entire view of the naked body in front of him. Black on white, the only hint of colour being the blood staining his stomach, and his side, where it had run down on the mattress.

Practically Snow fucking White, wasn't he? Complete with his own glass coffin.

No Prince Charming coming, though. No, sir. Tony would see to that.

He stood staring for a long time, lost in thought, afterwads not even sure what he really had been thinking about. Perhaps the fact that the day before, cutting the man to bloody ribbons had made him rock hard, but how seeing him clompletely naked now did nothing? Or maybe that was just too weird to take note of?

At last, Tony shook himself awake, and slowly started walking around the bed, to see the other side of Loki's body. There, he did notice something out of place.

Across the outside of the left thigh, three parallel scars were visible, silvery in the light. Tony tilted his head to the side, thinking back, but couldn't remember any mention of those. They were all the same length, about six inches or so, and perfectly straight. If it took an arm crushed by Thor's hammer, or some dark magic in his gut, to scar Loki, what had this been? Was it some asgardian beast that had scratched at him or something?

Well, Tony really didn't have to wonder, did he? He'd just find out later. Now, he reached a hand out, put one finger over each scar, and ran the fingertips lightly over them. 

He wasn't prepared for the effect.

Loki's entire leg flinched, pushing his hand off, and pulling away. It made Tony flinch as well, snatching his hand back in surprise, before staring at the leg. It didn't move again, but when he studied the rest of Loki's body, he noticed that his chest was heaving with panting breath. The face, now turned in Tony's direction, was grey. The eyes, that could obviously move again, were fixed on Tony, burning bright green with something that was impossible to name. Fear? Rage? Both? Yes, probably, and so much more.

What in the actual fucking hell?

The drug was clearly starting to wear off, but not as much as the movement in his leg had made it seem, that Tony was pretty sure of. Loki hadn't actually decided to move his leg when Tony touched him, because that wasn't physically possible at the moment. Some deep desperation had kicked in, instinctual and ingrained enough in his body's reflexes to be able to make the muscles do something Loki couldn't make them do consciously.

”And again, we have found something to talk about next time we sit down to chat.” Just because he now knew it caused such a profound reaction, Tony placed his palm over the scars again, grinning at Loki. This time the leg was still.

It took visible effort, but Loki managed to close his eyes. Escaping behind his eyelids.

”If it makes you feel better, I can show you the one on my shoulder from when you threw me through that fucking window. It's kind of impressive.” Tony barked a laugh. ”Look at us. Just boys comparing scars. Isn't it great?”

No movement in the closed eyes. 

Still chuckling, Tony left him to his darkness and went to pull Loki's pants up again. But then he changed his mind. They might as well stay like that until Loki could fix it himself. He just put another new t-shirt on the bed between the bare knees, before washing off the now congealed and partly dried blood. 

  


* * *

  


”You remember what I told you we would be talking about?” 

It was the next day. Loki was dressed again, once more standing in the cell, but not so close to the glass this time. Every trace of the relaxed stance from the day before was gone; his arms crossed over his chest now, shoulders slightly angled in, forming a smaller, protected target. He was facing away, showing Tony his profile and the flexing muscles in his jaw.

Silence.

”I know you do.” Tony was in his office chair, leaning back, ready to wait. ”So willing to talk about that barely healed monstrosity yesterday, and now nothing?” 

He tapped the plastic pen against the back of the tablet he was holding. 

”You get that you're just making me more curious, right? That I'm not going to let you keep this one to yourself?”

Silence.

”Loki.”

It was the first time Tony had spoken his name since this had started. The sound of it made the black head turn his way. There is magic in a name, for sure.

The green eyes still burned.

”Talk, or I make you.”

”No.”

”Yes, I will. Trust me on that one.”

”No.”

”You really don't want to talk about those scars, do you?”

Loki turned his head back the way it had been.

”That just means we really should.”

Silence.

”Tell me, or I'll -”

”Make me?” Loki's voice was a rasping mess. He talked without looking at Tony. ”How, Stark? Cripple me to hurt me? I cannot tell you when I'm frozen.”

”You'd not be drugged forever.”

”Makes no difference. You can never hurt me badly enough.”

”You don't think so?”

”I know.”

Tony's eyes narrowed as he watched the man, still hugging himself, and started tapping the pen on his bottom lip instead. He thought Loki might be right. Determination like that wouldn't break by just pain. At least not anything Tony could cause him. He just wasn't experienced enough in that particular skill. But he thought Loki was wrong too; he didn't know. He didn't know Tony was willing to try other ways.

”That's too bad then.” Tony stood, rolled the chair away, picked up the tab and walked to the elevator. ”I thought we'd have this deep, bonding conversation. But you clearly don't want to talk.”

As the doors slid open, he glanced back at Loki, who was staring at him.

”When you change your mind, let me know.” And then he stepped into the elevator and left Loki alone.

All alone.


	6. Isolation

The timer on the lights in the lab was once again set to be on for sixteen hours, off for eight. Regular as literal clockwork. Another timer was set to deliver food and water two times during the light hours, regularly.

And that was it. There was nothing else.

Tony kept an eye on things, of course, more or less constantly. But he never even went near the elvator that would take him to that floor. He was staying away. Giving Loki the silent treatment. It sure tested his patience, but he knew he had to do this, see it through to the end.

Yes, cutting Loki to ribbons, tearing him apart, finding every clue his alien body could hold to his powers, that was all well and good. That was what he had promised he would do. In the name of science. For the good of the world. To anvenge it. And so on. But what he also wanted to do was make Loki himself fall to pieces, on the inside. Strip him of everything, get to every secret he was hiding.

That was part of finding out what made him tick, of course, but he was also doing it for the hell of it. Even mostly for that last reason, maybe.

And as he had come to see, simple pain wasn't going to cut it. So now he was trying out the punishment he had always hated the most himself, the one that had always made him relent and beg forgiveness when he had messed up.

Much as he hated to in any way compare himself to the piece of crap living in his lab, Tony on some level thought they were alike in one thing – they both had a deep need to see themselves reflected in someone else. Didn't even have to be in a positive way. Just knowing someone saw you, that was enough for them to carry on doing whatever they did. This knowledge, this similarity, wasn't something Tony liked knowing was there, and he sure preferred not to think about it, but he could still use it. Exploit it. Use the crack he instinctively knew was there, to get to the inside.

So now, he had to wait. Simple, but no easy thing for a man like Tony. 

He kept himself busy as best he could. 

He ran every analysis he could on the shard he had found in Loki's wound. Which, just as he had suspected, gave him almost nothing. He would have to get help. But he wasn't ready for that, not yet.

He made Pepper almost hysterical with relief by calling her and checking up on things. Which gave him days of mindnumbingly dull things to occupy his time.

He read a lot. Researched.

He paced. 

He got bored. 

He got on his plane and left New York all together for a few weeks, when the urge to barge into the lab was becoming almost overpowering. 

He came back and started pacing again.

The only comfort was that no matter how bored he was, he knew someone who was worse off. A lot worse.

No matter what else he did to pass the time, Tony always kept a close eye on what was going on with his science project. And it would seem that it was progressing nicely in his absence.

  


* * *

  


By the look of things, it took three days for Loki to begin to realize that Tony wasn't coming back.

Those first days, it was obvious that he enjoyed having his dark hours back. He slept a lot more, spent his days in his usual corner, ate well, rested up. Expecting some fresh hell to turn up at any moment, probably, and took this chance to get prepared as well as he could, when he was allowed to.

But then, a certain restlessness started to kick in. Loki left his corner more often. Sometimes to just stand staring at the elevator doors. Sometimes to pace. He was still waiting, sure that Tony would return to torment him some more, at any minute, that much was clear, but he was starting to understand that something was off.

In the two weeks that followed, the restlessness came and went. Some days Loki seemed content to sleep, rest, meditate, stare at the walls. Other days he paced, a lot.

Slowly, it just got worse.

Around the 30 day mark the restlessness was a constant thing. Now, Loki hardly slept even in the dark hours. He was on the move so obsessively that Tony was starting to wonder if he would wear a path into the floor of the cell. Most of his food was left uneaten as well, he drank only parts of his water rations.

Then, suddenly, he stopped moving. And now he wasn't still in a way that spoke of rest. Loki was curled up on his mattress, on his side, back to the room, and he stayed like that for pretty much three days straight. Even though the readings told Tony he almost never slept. His body was tense as a bowstring.

Rage was what drove Loki from the bed on day 44. When he paced now, he was still tense, shoulders pulled up, hands hard fists, glaring into the emptiness outside. He would snarl and scream at it sometimes, sounds that gave Tony chills when he heard them. Never any words, just vicious noises of frustrated anger spinning out of control.

The glass walls became the targets of his fury again. Sometimes in hits that split his knuckles open and bloody. Other times pounding at them with fists or palms, as if hoping to attract attention with the sound.

By now, the readings from the mattress told Tony that Loki had lost nearly seven pounds in weight. Likely mostly fluids, but not all of it. His face was just a shadowy skull, like it had been on his arrival on Earth. Lack of sleep hollowed out his eyes.

When the rage wore itself out and left him, 53 days into the complete isolation, it seemed to take a lot of Loki's strenght with it.

He found his way back to his corner on the bed, and spent many still hours there, folded in on himself, arms around the long, pulled up legs. When he ate, he picked at the food listlessly, sometimes staring at it as if he had no idea what it really was. His eyes turned dull and unfocused, and sometimes Tony was sure they were following non-existent movements. Seeing things that weren't there?

During this time, Tony sometimes caught Loki hurting himself. Nothing serious, really. Nothing to cause real harm. But there it still was. Loki standing by the glass, hitting his forehead against it. Scratching his own arm until it bled. Pulling his hair until some of it came out in his hand. Hurting, rather than feeling nothing.

Then, at last, 61 days after Tony had left him alone, Loki started talking.

Not the talking Tony had asked him to do, of course. Not the talking that would make him finally decide to return to the lab. He had very specifically told Loki to let him know when he had changed his mind and felt like talking. And Loki would know what he wanted to talk about, too. This wasn't that talking. But it was real talking, real words, after two solid months of nothing but screams and primitive noises.

Tony was sure it was a huge step in the direction he had been hoping for,

At first, it was mumbled words, too indistinct for even the advanced microphones in the cell to pick up on. Then it was possible to make out words here and there.

The first one Tony could decipher surprised him a bit. It was ”Thor”. But the harsh lines on Loki's face, the bitter note in his voice, actually made it less of a surprise than it might have been.

Once, in the dark hours, Tony was pretty sure he made out ”mother”.

After that, Loki relapsed into quiet stillness for another couple of days, before he broke the silence for real.

It happened late one night, when Tony had fallen asleep on the couch. He had, as always, been watching the live feed from the cell, until his eyes just fell closed, tablet still resting against his drawn up legs. At first he thought it was a dream when he heard a voice. A voice that spoke his name, at that.

”Do you think this is in any way new to me, Stark?”

Tony blinked his eyes open, and stared at the screen. There he saw Loki standing in the middle of the cell, arms hanging by his sides, staring up into the air. He had to know Tony was watching and listening, but the cameras were made to be invisible from the cell, so Loki had no idea where to look to stare Tony in the eye, so to speak.

Loki's face was weary, eyes all shadows, the voice like lead.

”Do you think I do not know isolation?”

Tony slowly sat up straight in the couch, placed his hands around the tablet and lifted it closer, eyes fixed on the drawn face.

”Then you are sorely mistaken.”

”I know more than that, as well.” Loki crossed his arms over his chest. ”I also know all there is to know about being a prisoner, and a prize, of war.”

The dark eyes wandered the ceiling now, as if searching for Tony up there. 

”All about being locked away. For gain. Or _sport_.” Loki spat the last word out. 

He stood staring a long time after that. So long that Tony thought he had finished.

”And you are not the first to attempt picking me apart, to see what use can be made of me.” The voice was softer now, almost thoughtful. ”They failed.”

Loki slowly let his arms fall, and walked up to the glass, up close. But the fist he placed against it now was put there gently, just resting above his shoulder, which was almost leaning against the wall. He seemed to be staring straight at the elevator, as if expecting Tony to walk through the doors any moment.

”You will fail, Stark. Just as they did.” His lips pulled up in something that might have been meant to be a smile, but really was nothing like one. ”Because there is no use to be made of me.”

”I am no prize. I hold no worth.” Loki's attempt at a grin fell from his face. ”Useless.”

He turned from the glass, walked back to the bed, and once more curled up with his back to the room. He didn't move for half an hour. 

By then, Tony decided to turn the tab off and put it on the table. He sat staring at it for a long time, before it was his turn to smile. It wasn't really a more successful smile than the one Loki had mustered, but it was nastier.

”No need to sell yourself short”, he said. ”Nothing is useless when I'm done with it.”

He stood and walked towards the bedroom, stopping in the doorway.

”JARVIS?”

”Sir?”

”If he ever says the phrase 'I have changed my mind', or any variation of it. You tell me. Right away.” Tony continued to the bed, pulling his longsleeved t-shirt off as he went, letting it drop to the floor. ”Those are the magic words. I'd rather not miss them.”

”Of course, sir. Noted.”

  


* * *

  


After his little speach, Loki seemed to hit a new low. Drained of even more strength than the anger had used up. He spent most of his time on the bed, now flat on his back, with his hands clasped over his chest. Like a corpse in a coffin.

Playing dead?

Except that he was staring up into nothing, and blinking slowly. Just as if he had been drugged again. Only he hadn't, of course. He was doing this to himself.

After a couple of days of this, Tony noticed that Loki's left hand sometimes started to drift down to touch his thigh, right were the three strange scars were hidden under his pants. The first time it happened, Tony felt hopeful. The second time the hope started to take root. The third time he was sure it meant everything was going his way.

By what felt like the three hundredth time, Tony thought he was about to lose his mind himself.

”For fucks _sake_!” He slammed his fist on the table next to the tablet he was staring at, making it jump slightly. ”Just _tell me_!”

But Loki only took the hand away, put it back over his heart, and continued staring into the bright nothing above him.

”Shit!”

Tony turned the tablet off, walked out of the room, into the kitchen next door. By the counter he stopped, trying to remember why he had come in there to begin with. He couldn't.

A minute later he was turning the tablet back on, sitting down on the couch.

Part of him wanted to give up. Walk down into the lab and slice the man open, take what he could, and get this over with. But he knew he wouldn't do that. No way.

He was seeing this through to the end.

  


* * *

  


”Sir?”

Tony rubbed his eyes, coming up from deep sleep. ”JARV? What the hell?” 

”Sir. You asked to inform you when the 'magic words' were spoken.”

All at once, Tony was wide awake. He turned over, almost pushed the tablet onto the floor when his fingers fumbled at it, trying to pick it up.

”When?”

”One minute fourteen seconds ago, sir.”

Tony glanced at the time. 03.42 AM. Hour of the fucking wolf. Of course.

He tapped the screen, searching out footage from ten minutes back, to get a context for this event. But there really wasn't one. There was just Loki, flat on his back as usual. Tony noticed the way his hipbones showed under the cloth more than they had before. Loki stared silently for eight of the ten minutes. But Tony never once took his eyes off the screen. Then Loki sat up, turned his head, and by sheer luck stared straight into the camera. Into Tony's eyes.

”I have changed my mind.” The voice was quiet, but steady. ”Come, and I will talk.”

He held Tonys unseen gaze for a few seconds more, and then turned his back, placing himself on the mattress again.

Turning the tablet off and putting it back on the nightstand, Tony had to fight to keep calm. To not jump out of the bed and run straight for the damn lab. That really wasn't the way to do this. He forced himself to stay in the bed, trying to go back to sleep. It didn't work, but he stayed under the covers until 6 AM.

Tony made himself shave when he got up. And take a shower. Dress himself slowly.

7 AM.

Breakfast. Chewing his toast really fucking thoroughly. Sipping his coffee. Flipping through the paper, not one single word registering in his mind.

8 AM.

That had to be enough with the playing hard to get shit, right?

He left his plate and cup on the table and walked to the elevator. When he pressed the button for the lab floor, his fingers were shaking, just slightly. He'd have to hide that, and he knew it. Loki would pick up on shit like that in seconds.

Stepping out into the lab again, 72 days after he had last left it, felt like coming back to a strange, half forgotten dream. The white, harsh light, the sterile environment, the gleam of thick glass walls. The gray figure standing in the middle of the cell, staring at him, as if Loki had known he would be coming through the door at that exact moment.

Tony kept walking, ignoring Loki, until he was by the chair he had been sitting in last time, turned it so face the cell, pushing it closer to the glass. Before he sat down, he stood behind it, hands on the backrest, and looked up, straight at Loki.

”Talk.”

Hearing the sound of his voice, even in that short command, actually made Loki _shudder_ , and Tony had the distinct feeling is was with pleasure.

”Why are you so intent upon knowing that secret?”

”Yeah, I didn't come here to tell you things.” Tony let go of the chair, straightened and moved to turn away. ”Guess you didn't change your mind after all then.”

Before he had taken half a step towards the elevator, there was a movement to his right, and then Loki was close by the glass, palms against it. His eyes seemed huge.

”Stark! Stop! I will talk. I told you i would.” The words were quick. ”I am merely curious as to what the secret could mean to you.”

”Well, obviously, I don't know that until you tell me.”

”The magic wound... I could understand that. It is what you want, is it not? Magic and strange powers?”

Tony was silent.

”This secret holds none of that. It is all... Mine. Is it enough if I tell you that much?”

”Not even close. Talk, or I'm out. Again.”

Loki glared. ”Damn you!” He hit the glass with a palm. ”To the deepest pits of Hel!” With a twitching movement he pulled away from the wall again. ”I will talk.”

Back by the chair, Tony sat down and got the tab ready, as usual. 

”So. What did that?”

Loki heaved a sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes in weary frustration. ”What use is there for me to talk if you will not listen?” He raked the hand back through his hair, looking at Tony. ”I believe I just told you.”

_(”It is all... Mine.”)_

Tony frowned. ” _You_ did that yourself?” 

Loki's cold stare said it all.

”When?”

”Always.”

Oh, that was interesting. For a whole list of reasons.

”Why?”

”I believe I have already told you that, as well. If you were listening.”

Before opening his mouth to say that Loki hadn't told him shit about shit, which felt like the obvious answer, Tony made himself really think about what Loki had said when his sudden words had woken Tony up on the couch.

_(”Do you think I do not know isolation?” ”I hold no worth.” ”Useless.”)_

Then came the memory of Loki sitting on his bed, almost absently pulling his own hair out of his scalp.

Ah.

So it didn't take one serious or magical injury to scar. Small, repeated ones could do the same. If repeated often enough. Tony started wondering if that was something he could test, but soon thought better of it, doing the math. It had taken Loki a thousand years to do that to himself. Tony didn't have a thousand years.

At least now he knew that even Loki's cells could be worn out with enough persistance.

And of course, Tony understood now. Understood the reaction, deeply rooted enough to push through the drug paralyzing him. The anxiety, the old horrors, and the complete shame of it, that had been enough to make Loki dead sure Tony would never be able to hurt him badly enough to get it out of him.

Hurting yourself, ruining yourself, to deal with the untouchable things on the inside, that wasn't exactly something people took pride in on Earth either. That was something kept hidden and secret. Or brushed off as something else. Whether you did it with a blade or a full glass in your hand. Tony knew that. And everything he had been able to pick up about the culture in Asgard told him that place wasn't likely to be more openminded about those kinds of problems.

There you probably were expected to just hit things - other than yourself - until they stopped moving. And then you were happy. And if not, you just needed to do it again. Harder.

Cutting yourself up to cope? Not the asgardian way.

"Who knows about that little issue?" Tony didn't really need to ask that. But he wanted to.

"You." Loki gave a choked kind of laugh. "The secret of a millennium, and it still means nothing now that you have wrenched it from me."

"I'll be the judge of that."

"What?" Loki scoffed. "Do you wish to leave something sharp in here with me? See if I would do it again?"

"Not really. No need. I already know you would."

Loki just stared, at a loss for words.

"If you could have, you'd have bled yourself dry in there already, no doubt. But I'm not about to let you. That's my job, after all."

Loki blinked, and his cheeks went a bit gray.

”Did you think I'd give up on this if I got that little secret from you?”

”No.” He gave Tony his back, and walked over to sit down on the bed, looking at the floor. ”I simply struggle to remember why I wished for you to return.”

”I bet you do.” Tony leaned back in the chair, hands behind his neck, grinning. ”I bet you do.”


	7. A Second Opinion

"I'm going to need your help with this, Bruce."

"Tony, you know I can't do that."

"Sure you can. You know these things well enough to -"

"That's not what I mean, and you know it." A sigh at the other end of the line. "What you are doing... _Him_... I'd just have to walk through the front door to..."

"Turn green at the edges?"

"Yes."

Tony held up the vial with the strange shard to the light, frowning, thinking.

"Well. I'm not going to stop what I'm doing. I'll tell you that much." He bit his lip. "And I can't change _him_. But if I just bring you samples to take a look at? You think you could do that without the Other Guy saying anything about it?"

A long silence. Tony just left Bruce to think.

"I think I could manage that." Another sigh. "I hope. When?"

"Now?"

"This minute?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow's fine, Tony."

  


* * *

  


"I hope you're not scared of needles." There was, of course, no answer from the drugged Loki on the bed in front of him. "I guess it's only fair to warn you, because I think this is going to sting a bit. Or a lot."

But the blood he drew from Loki's arm was the easiest part of all of it.

The part that was going to sting came after that.

Loki's blood had been tested before, and Tony wanted to give Banner something else to look at as well. Anything that might hold some clue to how this healing and magic was constructed. 

He put the vials of blood in a container that would keep the samples cool and protected, picked up a scalpel, and turned back to the arm resting on the mattress. Slowly and carefully he traced a bloody rectangle on the pale skin, lifted a corner of it free with the blade, and peeled it off, cutting it free as he went. The flesh beneath it sweated blood for a few moments, before new skin began to cover it.

Tony stored the skin away, and then walked up to Loki's head. Hair. That should be something worth looking at. But he needed to get the follicles as well. Well, only one way to be sure.

Cutting a square out of Loki's scalp made the blade scrape against the skull under it. Tony could see a hint of the bone under the blood when he removed the tissues and hair.

By now the miracle that was Loki being able to heal everything Tony did to him had become something almost ordinary. Tony had seen it so many times. But what happened this time made even him stare. At first the skin just filled out, like it had on the arm, and Tony had expected it to stop there. But instead the thick, black hair began growing back as well. The cut away lock of it twisted and curled like a snake, until it fell in with its fellows, impossible to tell from the others.

Tony looked down at Loki. ”I've seen some weird shit in my days, but that was pretty high on the list even for me.”

Loki just blinked. Because that was all he could do.

  


* * *

  


When Bruce Banner opened his door, he looked a bit rumpled and ruffled, like he had just been woken up and rolled out of bed, even though it was almost noon. But Tony knew that was the way the man always looked.

”Hi, Tony.” He stepped aside with a slow, calculated movement to let Tony walk into the apartment.

Doing so, Tony couldn't help but, as always, be fascinated by the absurd difference between the two of them. The way they took on the world with attitudes at the complete opposite ends of the spectrum. Himself, always taking up as much space and room as he possibly could, big words and wide gestures. Banner, somehow taking up half the space his body actually needed, timidly folded in on himself, speaking softly. Like he made up for all the space he took when he went green.

Still, somehow, they got along. Really well, too. Maybe just because they didn't try to occupy the same space.

”I'm not going to stay that long, so you don't have to worry about playing the perfect host or anything.” Tony flashed him a grin, reaching out the hand holding the container with the samples. ”Just dropping this off, so you can take a look when you have the time.”

”You're welcome to stay, though.” Banner closed the door and then looked back at him, taking the container, holding it like it might explode in his face any moment. There was a wrinkle between his eyebrows.

”Thanks. But I can't, actually. Busy.”

The wrinkle deepened.

”Don't worry, I won't talk about it. I know you don't want to. Even though I don't really get why. It's not like you're a huge fan of the guy or anything, right?”

”Never said I was. Still... No, you know what? I told you what I thought about this before. No use going through it all again.”

”This is for a good cause, you know that. What if the cure for AIDS is in there?” Tony made a gesture to the case in Banner's hands. ”Wait until you see what his immune system looks like. I think it could eat cancer cells for breakfast, lunch and dinner and still ask for seconds.”

”You remember what they say about the road to Hell and good intentions?”

”Don't think saving all those lives is worth some good oldfashioned damnation?”

”No.”

”You really surprise me sometimes, Bruce.”

Banner shrugged, and turned to walk into the kitchen behind him. He gently placed the container on a counter and faced Tony, who had stepped into the doorway.

”You surprise me, too, you know? I never thought you'd go down this road.”

”Yeah, well, I have. And I guess that's that.” Tony glanced at his watch. He'd been away for an hour. He wished he hadn't left the tablet in the fucking car.

”In a hurry back?”

Tony met the soft, worried eyes studying him from behind the glasses. ”Yes.”

”You've lost weight.”

”I have?”

”You didn't shave this morning. Or the last two or three days either, I'd say.”

”That's... Possible. I guess?”

For a few moments they just looked at each other. Then Banner sighed, and slowly shook his head, giving up.

”This is it? All the samples you wanted me to look at?”

”Not really.” Tony put his hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out the vial with the shard, holding it out. ”There's also this thing. Got it out of an old wound he had before coming here. To Earth, I mean.”

Bruce took the vial, holding it up. ”Any idea what it is?”

”Not really. It's clearly not from around here. And it messed him up. Pretty bad. Be careful with that, whatever you do.”

”I will.” Banner gingerly put the vial down next to the container, and looked at Tony over his shoulder. ”I'd tell you to be careful too. But I guess it's too late for that now.”

”Hey! I _am_ careful. He's not going anywhere.”

”That's not what I'm most worried about, actually.”

”What's that supposed to mean?”

”He's messing you up too, Tony. Pretty badly. You don't even notice, do you?”

Tony gave a dismissive snort. ”I'm just fine, Bruce. Fine! You worry too much.”

”You don't worry enough.”

”Actually, I've heard that one before.”

Banner gave him a faint smile. ”No surprise there.”

  


* * *

  


”Hello there, Brucie. You all right?”

”You really weren't kidding about these samples, Tony.”

”Told you.”

”I... Honestly? Well. I still have a problem with the way you are going about this thing. Not going to lie. But I have to admit this is... You're on to something here. Something that might be big.”

”Told you.”

”So. I guess what I'm saying is, I'm in. I'll help you.”

”Thanks. You won't regret it.”

”Wouldn't be too sure about that.” Bruce huffed a short laugh. ”And I'm not coming over there. But I'll do what I can with what you gave me.”

”That's plenty, Banner. Really. Thank you.”

A sigh. ”You're welcome.”

  


* * *

  


Tony stood in front of his bathroom mirror, wearing nothing but his underwear, ready to go to bed. He was leaning on the sink with both hands, studying his reflection, trying to do so critically. For the first time in a while.

He realized Banner had been right. 

His beard looked like shit. His cheeks hadn't been this sunken a month ago. He was sure there even was more gray at his temples.

He also realized he didn't care.

Tony turned away from the mirror, hit the lights and went to bed. To fall asleep in the eerie lights of the screen showing the lab ten floors below him.


	8. By Proxy

”When are you giving up, Stark?”

”What the hell makes you think I will?”

”Sooner or later, you will. You are nothing more than a mortal, after all. You would be wise to use your few remaining years for something else.”

”Lucky I know you don't really mean that. It would hurt my feelings otherwise.” Tony leaned his shoulder against the wall by the controls. ”Now, shut the fuck up, get on the bed, and we can get started.”

Loki rolled his eyes, but still did as he was told.

After relenting, broken by the isolation, and asking Tony to come back to the lab, he had tried putting his social defenses back in place. It was clear that Loki hated the crack in his mental armour Tony had exposed, baring part of the hidden away dark pit of fuckery that for lack of a better word might be called his soul. He had been trying to show how little he cared about what Tony now knew, but none of them was really buying it.

Tony could tell that this probably bothered Loki most of all. Lying and feigning and tricking and diverting. That was his thing. And now he seemed to have forgotten how to do it. Or at least, how to do it well enough.

He could keep trying to patch that crack up, as far as Tony was concerned. It would still be there.

  


* * *

  


Tony had been trying to find out where the power of Loki's healing really resided. What part of him did it? Next on the list of things to examine, were Loki's blood. Only this time, not under a microscope. Tony was getting a lot more hands-on than that.

Now he wanted to find out what would happen if he removed part of it. A greater part than just a sample. He would have to be careful about it, as he still knew so little, but you had to start somewhere, right?

He started by stripping Loki down, making sure the mattress under his body could get all the accurate readings. No information would be allowed to pass him by. He fitted a band around Loki's left arm to measure the blood preassure as well.

Then he, as carefully as he could, inserted a needle in the crook of Loki's right arm. With it in place, he attached a tube and a blood bag, watched red start to seep into it, and stepped back to keep a close eye on the numbers.

It took a blood loss of just over 1000 ml to start seeing a reaction. More than it would have taken in a human, but that was expected. The effects of the loss were pretty much the same as they would have been in a human, however. Loki's face turned even paler than before, his extremities turned colder, and he was breathing faster, his body trying to compensate for the lack of oxygen. His heart rate was going up, his blood preassure changing as well

At 1750 ml, Tony stopped, taking the drained blood away. The effects were strong enough that he should be able to learn something from how Loki's body handled it, without risking some damage he would regret later.

It wasn't really a surprise, but sort of a dissappointment, when Loki almost instantly started regenerating the lost amount of blood. He remained pale and cold for a minute or so, but his increased breathing and heartrate stabilized quickly, and then started slowing. Blood preassure was soon back to normal, what little colour there was returning to Loki's face.

So that most likely wasn't it, then.

Tony stood staring at the body in front of him for a while, as the tension in it started to come back, unsure of what to do. The drug was wearing off, a lot quicker than usual since so much of the blood in Loki's body had been replaced, and he didn't have much more time to do anything today.

He felt like he had tried pretty much everything he could think of, and Loki was still not giving away any secrets. At least not anything that would lead to practical results. The samples he had given to Banner were still being analyzed, and until that was done, he didn't want to let things escalate too much too quickly. But still, Tony needed something to happen. He needed a breakthrough.

While he was thinking, Tony's eyes found the scars on the side of Loki's thigh again.

Those had been the reason for his last breakthrough, but since then he had left them alone. After getting the old secret out of Loki, he hadn't thought there was more to be gained from them, but now he was curious to find out if he had been wrong.

Maybe Loki had started to think he had forgotten all about them? Time to show him he should have known better.

Tony pulled the high table on wheels closer, took his gloves off, and placed them on it. He usually kept them on at all times. Despite the crazy immune system Loki had, who knew what he might be carrying? But something was urging Tony to use his bare hands for this. Feel everything he possibly could.

He needed something to happen, after all.

When Tony placed his fingers on the scars, almost caressing them, just as he had done the first time, he felt the muscle in the thigh tense, go hard as steel under his hand. But it didn't move this time. The shock had managed that, and the shock was gone, even if he was sure Loki still felt as strongly about Tony touching him in that spot.

He spent some time tracing the scar tissue with his bare fingers this time, felt the slightly harder, smoother surface of it compared to the healthy skin around it.

Without thinking about what he was doing, he reached out and picked up the scalpel from the table. Still not bothering with gloves. Slowly, he put the tip of the blade against the top of the first scar, he one closest to Loki's knee.

Tony had been fighting his own excitement and arousal since that first time he had taken a blade to Loki's body, trying to keep it from getting in the way of him doing things the right way, properly. Think his actions through. But this time it wasn't even remotely possible to do that.

Before the smooth, deliberate movement of the blade had cut the first of the scars open, Tony's cock was already painfully hard. He had to stop, leaning on the edge of the mattress, staring at the blood, make himself breathe. Only when the scar had closed up again, shining silver under the dark red stains, was he able to continue on to the next one.

The air in his lungs caught in his tight throat, came out in a strangled stort of moan.

It felt like the entire lower part of his body was pulsing with blood and heat. His head felt light and empty.

Tony was sure he had never experienced anything like this before. Nothing this strong had ever gripped him, physically.

The random cuts he had made before had sometimes been deeper than these, but they had been just that, random. Now, there was nothing random about this. Tony knew exactly what he was doing, knew exactly what these scars meant. He wasn't just cutting into Loki's skin and flesh now, he was cutting into memories, secrets, shame and old, old anguish.

He had almost expected bitter tears, or possibly green envy, to ooze out of these wounds, instead of blood.

Before, just the act of causing pain and helplessness had been enough to get Tony worked up. But this? This was something far more intimate.

Weirdly, perversely, Tony was damn sure it was the most intimate thing he had ever done, to anyone, in his life. And he felt it, deep.

Making the third cut, his hand was shaking, and he couldn't keep the incision as straight as he had wanted, but he was too far gone to care. About anything, to be honest. His world was reduced to the bloody, scarred leg in front of him, and the by now almost explosive gathering of blood in his groin. 

So it took him a lot longer than it should have to notice that he wasn't the only one affected by what was going on.

Loki's cock had never been anything but flaccid before, when Tony had had him stripped on the bed. Now it was fully erect, resting on his abdomen, the pale skin darkened by the blood under it, stretching it thin. 

Tony almost lost the ability to breathe when he saw what had happened right in front of him, without him noticing. He whipped his head around to stare at Loki's face, and found that the black head had rolled slightly to the side, probably so that Loki would be able to see at least some part of what Tony was doing. There was just the faintest hint of colour in the pale cheeks, and the eyes were wide, full of black. As he watched, Loki's thin lips parted, as if words were struggling to find their way out.

Tony just instinctively knew they wouldn't have been words of protest, if they had been able to make themselves heard. They would have been words of encouragement. He could see them in Loki's eyes. Begging for more.

Way too late, Tony realized what he should have taken into account from the start. And that was, of course, the fact that these ancient scars were not _only_ associated with pain and shame. They were also the remains of Loki's probably oldest way of finding relief, in every sense of the word.

As Tony's prisoner, he had been denied this old habit, until now. Now, when it was Tony doing it for him.

Suddenly, he remembered telling Loki he wouldn't be letting him do this to himself. That it was Tony's job now. And the way Loki had turned gray.

Suddenly, he understood that he had totally and completely misread Loki's reaction. What had been so shocking to him. He hadn't feared Tony taking this action into his own hands; he had longed for it. And Loki had looked pretty much about to faint at that realization.

A few seconds ago, Tony had been closer to just cumming in his pants than he had been in many, many years. Now he could feel himself shriveling up, fast. The intimacy that had been stirring the flames before now felt like something dirty and stinking clinging to his skin.

With a metallic clatter, Tony almost threw the scalpel on the table. Not caring about giving Loki a new t-shirt, not bothering with cleaning him up, not bothering with anything at all, he just got Loki back into the cell, locked it back up, set him free, and got out of the lab as fast as he could without running.

Hidden behind the elvator doors, he nearly fell down on the floor, but managed to keep on his feet.

_(What am I doing what am I doing what just happened why why why what am I doing?)_

Before the doors opened again, he felt the first gag. When he reached his private suite, he just barely had time to run into the bathroom, and almost fell head first into the toilet to throw up. And again. And again. Until nothing but acid and bile would come out of him. Then he fell down, rolled over on his back on the cool floor, shivering and sweating, tears running down the sides of his face.

Tony stayed like that a long time, catching his breath, his mind completely blank.

Slowly he got up on his hands and knees, pulled himself up on his feet to rinse his mouth and wash his face. He carefully avoided looking at himself in the mirror. Then he stumbled out into the bedroom, fell down on his stomach on the bed, still dressed, and put his arms around his head, as if hiding from the world.

His mind was still empty, and he was really, really happy about that.

It was still empty when the shivers subsided and he fell asleep.

  


* * *

  


Tony woke up again in the middle of the night, stirred from bloody dreams by the discomfort of lying on something that felt like a metal rod straining against the fabric of his pants. It was like his libido had completely missed the part where he had been sick, and promptly returned to the scene of the crime as soon as his consciousness wasn't looking anymore.

And apart from the memories flashing by behind his closed eyes, his consciousness was still out for the night. He could tell. His head was still empty. It was just his tormented body that had woken him up, craving attention.

With a moan that was half pain and half frustration, Tony rolled over on his side, tore his jeans open, and shoved his hand into his underpants. What his fingers found barely even felt like it was part of a human body. Had he _ever_ been that hard before?

The dream that had enveloped him when he woke up had already done most of the work. Tony barely had time for three strokes before the red in his mind turned to fireworks and then back to black.

  


* * *

  


His hand was still in his soiled pants when he woke up in the morning.

Tony groaned with tired disgust as he pulled it free, taking off his t-shirt and using that to wipe it clean – or, at least cleaner – before he got out of bed. He shuffled into the bathroom, got all his clothes in the hamper, and himself into the shower.

Drying himself and getting dressed, Tony slowly felt his mind start to fall back into place.

He had needed something to happen, and something sure as hell had happened. Not what he wanted, but wasn't that just the way things always tended to work out?

Thoughts of Loki surfaced. What the hell could he have made of what had happened yesterday? Tony winced. He strongly suspected that Loki would know exactly what had been going on. The way he always seemed to.

Not good. At all.

Showing weakness, of any kind, in front of Loki was definitely a bad thing. He was going to have a lot of damage to undo, he was sure of that. But he might as well get to it right away. Before he lost even more resolve than he already had.

He didn't even check the tablet before taking the elevator down, just bringing it with him, still turned off. Whatever was waiting for him, he'd have to deal with it anyway.

What waited, turned out to be Loki standing in the middle of the cell, wearing almost exactly the kind of knowing, infuriating smile Tony had suspected he would. It really didn't help that Loki was naked from the hips up, or that the left side of his pants were stained dark with old blood, where he had pulled them up over the mess Tony had left on him.

He was just one huge reminder of the day before.

”Well, there you are.” Loki tilted his head to the side. ”You left in such a rush, Stark. It nearly had me worried.”

”Sweet of you.” Tony walked over to the storage unit and pulled out a new t-shirt. ”Hope I didn't ruin your night.”

He opened a hatch close by the control panel, put the gray garment in, and closed it again. By the controls, he gave the command to deposit the t-shirt thrugh the same slot as Loki recieved his food and drink. Then he turned to face the glass wall again.

Loki was still smiling, watching him. ”Oh, not at all. You left me in rather a good mood.”

”I can tell.” Tony nodded towards the t-shirt. ”Put it on.”

”And here I had started to think you prefer me undressed.” Loki lifted his arms slightly, palms out, and glanced down at himself. 

”Put it on.”

Slowly Loki went to pick the t-shirt up, which brought him closer to where Tony was standing. He took his time unfolding it, turning it around in his hands, lifting it over his head. Obviously showing off the way muscles flexed in his pale chest. Then he pulled the hem of it down in an almost painfully slow movement, covering himself up, before flashing Tony a grin.

Tony had had no idea getting dressed could be done in a way that somehow made it worse than a striptease. But he kept his face blank.

”What is the use of me getting dressed, if you are here to do your dirty work again?”

”I'm not.” Tony took a step back to sit down in the office chair waiting for him.

”No?” The grin started to fade.

Dissappointed? Or just wondering what was going to happen instead?

”I'm here to ask some questions.”

”And why should I answer them?”

”Why should you? I have no idea. Maybe I'll just leave you to think on that. For as long as it takes.”

Loki glared, his lip pulling back in a sneer.

”Already thought it through, I see.” 

Tony put his right ankle to rest on his left knee, leaning back, and picking up his tablet, swiping to find the rather long list of questions about magic he had been working on since this started. Now that he had Loki in a position where he would talk to Tony, he might as well ask them. Find out what he could about the theory of it.

”That's great, because this is going to take a while as it is.” He met Loki's eyes, saw them narrow. ”And the faster we get it done, the faster we can get back to the dirty work again.”

If his stick had somehow turned into a carrot, Tony was determined to still make the most of it.

The green eyes widened again, the pupils dilating. ”When do we start?”

”Right now.”


	9. Glorious Purpose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This is where the warnings really start to come into play... Just another friendly heads up: this is not a pretty story.)

From the second he walked into the lab that night, Tony knew this was going to end in some sort of disaster. For someone. He hoped it wasn't for himself, but still just couldn't keep away from the place.

Everything was falling to pieces.

Giving those samples to Banner, he had had such high hopes. Been so sure they would crack this thing in no time at all, that he would get the ammunition he needed to finish this up, get what he wanted from Loki. At last.

Turns out, Tony had been wrong.

The cells and tissues that had been aging so slowly that Tony had hardly been able to calculate the possible life span of them, that he had thought pretty near immortal, had all withered and died within days. Bruce had called him up to tell him it was all gone. Pretty much just ashes, actually. Any hope of turning parts of Loki into some kind of cure-all was fading fast.

Tony had promised that something good was to come out of this, and he was not going to fail, damnit!

Only the shard was left, and that thing wasn't giving away any more of its secrets than Loki was. At least not yet.

It felt like frustration was foaming out of Tony's ears when he stepped out of the elevator.

Maybe Loki had been right? Maybe there was no way to make use of him?

It would seem that Loki sensed Tony's strange mood. He just silently took his place on the mattress, letting himself be drugged. And Tony was just as silent, making the usual preparations, noting the time they started.

Then he ended up just sitting on the high, uncomfortable stool, thinking. Hard. While Loki was left to wait.

If Loki really was useless, then Tony's promise was too. He couldn't have that.

Tony was a tinkerer. He lived to understand the construction of things, what made them up, what made them tick. If he didn't know how something worked, he found out. If he did know, he tinkered with it until it worked better. Until it was _useful_.

He had to make use of Loki. 

If he couldn't, Loki would win.

Did that even sound _remotely_ like an option?

There had to be something he could take away from this. Some use to Loki. Some... Purpose. 

He felt his own face twist as the last word passed by in his mind. It was all too connected with Loki's arrival on Earth.

Loki had been claiming a purpose then. And now, he claimed to be useless. To everyone. So, which was the truth? Or was the reality of if somewhere inbetween? Tony just knew that he had to find out, but he felt like all his options and methods were becoming as useless as Loki claimed to be. Even hurting the man was becoming pointless.

He just sat there now, thinking, waiting, watching.

Tony noticed when Loki's eyes started to move, searching for him, as was usually the first sign of the drug wearing off. It was harder than usual for Loki to find him, since Tony had placed him on his stomach this time. He hadn't even thought that through, and he had no idea why he had. Tony hadn't even noticed before now, when one of Loki's eyebrows pulled upp just slightly to let him get a glimpse of Tony.

Putting those thoughts to the side again, Tony made a note of the time. One hour thirtythree minutes to the first eye movements. Less than it had used to be, but still good.

There came tension in the muscles before any real movement was visible. Tony could see ripples of it over Loki's back, even hidden under the t-shirt. When he got up and moved around to the left side, to almost affectionately run his hand over Loki's thigh, where he knew the three scars were hidden, he felt the leg tense up under the touch. The movement still made Tony think about cutting those scars open, and he felt himself getting hard.

Part of Tony also wanted to remind him of leaning over the toilet in convulsions, noisily throwing up bile, but it didn't catch. Didn't make an impression.

Shortly after that, Loki was able to nearly lift his head, and his arms started pulling at the restraints. Still weak as a kitten, though. No risk of him getting free. 

But this was what Tony had been waiting for. And he hadn't realized it until this moment. Hadn't realized that there still was a way he could try to get to Loki.

He reached under the bed, found the control that would let him lower it, and set it at about knee high. That should work. Then he thought of the little jar of vaseline half forgotten on a corner of his littered table, grabbed it and put it on the floor by the bed. Good thing to have around. Didn't want to cause any discomfort, after all. To himself, that is. He doubted it would make any difference to Loki.

”What... Are you... Doing?” The words were slurred, but clear enough to make out.

”Oh, so you talk now? That's all right. I don't mind if you tell me what you think about what I'm doing.” Tony pushed his hand in under Loki's hip, feeling around for the button on the front of his pants and opening it. He could feel the restless movements in that hip as he did. ”But mostly, I think I want you to squirm. And it looks like you'll be able to.”

The stiff, startled look in Loki's eye, the one Tony could see, betrayed the fact that Loki was starting to get an idea of how this night was going to go.

”Don't... You... Dare!”

”You bet your ass I dare.” Tony laughed, nastily. ”But then again, I guess you already _are_ betting it.”

Loki started pulling at the restraints again. He could do it a bit harder now, but still a long, long way from being strong enough that his movements mattered. And it sure didn't stop Tony from gripping the sides of his pants to pull them down to his knees.

Tony might have spent time thinking about what he was doing, and if this, even now, was a road he really thought wise to travel. Instead, he spent that time undoing his own pants, grabbing the jar from the floor, and kneeling over Loki. The bed was just wide enough that there was room for his knees, straddling the top of Loki's thighs.

”Get off me!” Loki hissed the words, trying to roll away, completely unsuccsessfully of course.

”Like hell I will.” Tony got a grip on the narrow hips, pushing himself closer. ”How else will I find a use for you?”

There was the sound of Loki pulling in a sharp breath, probably to say something else. But that was when the head of Tony's cock found the entrance it had been searching for, and breached it, forcefully. One vicious, unrelenting move and Tony's hips were resting against Loki's ass.

For the first time, after all the things he had done, Tony finally got to hear Loki scream. 

There was pain in it, oh absolutely, but that sure wasn't all there was. Not even most of it. It was the scream of an enraged animal, defiant, even in the face of complete humiliation.

A burning eye, spitting green flames, rolled around to glare, and in it Tony could see everything Loki wished upon him in that moment. Death and destruction, hail and brimstone. Words were beyond him. It was all primitive, snarling fury.

Slowly, Tony pulled out. All the way out. Waited long enough for there to come some faint hint of relief, and then rammed himself back in, just as hard, hoping he would get to hear the scream again. And he wasn't dissappointed.

There was even more pain in it this time, with Loki already sore from the first attack, and with the immediate rage losing its sharp edge. Not because Loki was any less pissed off, of course, but because the defiance was cracking. Falling apart. Crushed under his restraints and the weight of his own crippled body. Tony could see it leave, abandon Loki to face the abuse and degredation all on his own. Helpless to defend himself, physically or mentally.

But Loki did squirm, writhing and attempting to pull at the metal binds. Not giving up, not even now. And not even a long time after that day, and not even to himself, Tony would ever admit how insanely turned on he had been by those weak, resisting movements under him.

With his hands on Loki's lower back, forcing him down, Tony was thrusting hard now, his panting breath mingling with the dry, hissing noises from Loki. Getting close to the edge, he slowed down, though, not ready to let it be over already.

He stared down at the twitching, rippling muscles in the back in front of him, where the t-shirt had been pushed up to show skin, then looked up to see Loki glaring at him again, his eye like acid.

”I'd say I've found your purpose”, Tony mumled, letting a hand stroke the curve of the spine. The gentle touch made Loki growl and try harder to twist away. ”And I've got to tell you, it sure is _glorious_.”

He put emphasis on the last word with the next thrust of his hips, with renewed force.

Loki dropped his face onto the mattress, and let out another scream, the frustrated, helpless rage of it sending chills up the back of Tony's neck.

After that, he couldn't hold back any more. He came hard, with an almost whining groan in his throat, digging his nails into Loki's back.

When he felt that his legs would carry him, so that he could pull out, get his pants in order and get up, Loki had gone completely still. The green eyes were staring straight ahead as Tony pulled his pants up too, even buttoning them, before finishing with a light pat on his now covered ass.

”Good as new.”

There was a faint growl at that. Had Loki at last given up?

But Tony soon realized that was not the case. The man had just been catching his breath, getting over the shock.

In the instant the restraints clicked open, when he was back in the cell, Loki wrenched himself free of them, rolling off the bed. He fell hard on the floor, the arms not coming up on time to brace for the landing. Weak hands scrabbled over the floor as he had to fight to get on his knees, still partly crippled by the drug, but furious enough that the force of it drove him to move anyway.

Tony squatted down on the floor outside the cell, studying his stuggle with a faint smile on his lips.

Lifting his head Loki caught sight of him. He tried to turn to face Tony, fell on his elbows, almost on his face, and had to get back up. Legs barely able to move at all yet.

"Stark!" Spitting out the name. "Get your foul existance away from me!"

"What? You don't want to cuddle?"

Somehow, Loki wedged a foot against the panel in front of the bed and managed to push himself halfway across the cell. Hands like claws reaching for Tony, through all too much empty air and all too solid glass. As if his fury in itself would be enough to let him get to the cause of it. And he kept coming, crawling over the floor, pulling himself closer, until he could support himself on the glass, get up on his knees to beat at the wall.

”Get out of my sight!”

”I don't think I will.”

Loki's forehead fell limply against the glass as he stared at Tony, who was almost directly opposite him, still squatting outside. His shoulders slumped, his hands, which had been clawing at the glass, slowly slid down it to hang by the floor. Tears of rage streaked his face.

For a while they sat like that, eye to eye.

”I hate you.” It was hardly more than a whisper, but it was still the most vicious sound Tony had ever heard.

”And I hate you.” Tony slowly stood up, and looked down on Loki. A smile pulled at a corner of his mouth. ”Goodnight, sweet prince. I'll see you tomorrow.”

The last Tony saw of him before the elevator closed, Loki was still in the same hunched over position by the wall, staring straight ahead.

  


* * *

  


It was in no way a surprise that Loki didn't sleep that night.

Tony, on the other hand, slept better than he had in weeks. When he woke up and checked the recordnings from the past night, he found that it hadn't taken long for Loki to leave his spot on the floor. As soon as the remaining effects of the drug wore off, he was back in rage mode. A frenzied beast, prowling and pacing in his cage.

He was never still. And hardly ever silent, which was new.

Most of the time he was making the noises of the frenzied beast as well, the hissing and spitting, growling and snarling. But he was also directing foul curses at the ceiling. Followed by threats. A lot of them.

By the time Tony had caught up with the recordning and had skipped through to live feed, it was still going on.

Loki banged his fists on the glass, glaring into empty air. 

”One day you will have your back turned at the wrong moment, Stark! And I'll have you!” The voice was a cutting blade. ”I will tear open your chest, rip out your rotten heart, and hope your eyes stay open long enough to see me _eat it_!”

He twisted around, paced back and forth, and came back to hit his palms against almost exactly the same spot.

”Before the end, your blood will be on my hands! _All of it_!” Loki took a step back and held his hands up in front of himself, staring at the white palms, as if he could already see that blood staining them. Then he whipped his head back to search the ceiling again. ”You hear me, Stark? If you do, you can trust me on this!”

More pacing. Then lashing out to hit the glass with his knuckles.

”I will make what you have been doing here look like child's play!” Loki bared his teeth in something that wasn't even meant to be a smile. Just a primitive promise that said 'I'll rip your throat out if I get the chance'. Then hitting the glass again. Even harder. Leaving blood on the clear surface. ”You will know things about pain you thought impossible!”

Tony leaned back on his pillows, still in bed, and grinned at the restless figure on the screen, before turning the tablet off.

”Well, isn't this just perfect?” He let himself slide down flat on his back again, stretching, still grinning, excitement fluttering in his chest. ”Just a perfectly lovely fucking morning!”

  


* * *

  


”Get on the bed.”

”You have _got_ to be joking!” Loki was close by the glass, the gleaming eyes showing how much he wished he could magic himself through it. ”Only, it is not even slightly amusing.”

”On the bed.”

”The next time that foul tongue attempts a joke, I hope you swallow it and choke!”

”On the bed, Loki.”

”Fall over dead, Stark.”

”Well, then.” Tony gave the command to release the gas anyway, before looking back.

”The days when I would do what you told me are gone now.” Loki raised his chin, ignoring the yellow clouds falling around him. ”All gone.”

”Too fucking bad. Guess I'll just have to take what I want anyway, then.” Tony shrugged a shoulder. ”I'll try not to cry too much about it.”

It was only when the drug started getting to him, when his limbs were really growing heavy, that Loki's anger started to fray at the edges and what was hiding behind it showed through. The fear of what he knew was coming and was helpless to stop or change. What he knew he would just have to suffer through. Again.

The fear Tony had hoped to get to see all along.

When he walked into the cell, Tony knew he should get Loki on the bed. He had instruments to help him, it wouldn't even be hard to do it, just as he had promised Loki once before. On the mattress, he would be able to tie him down, and know how long he had to do what he wanted.

He really should do that.

But the moment he stopped to look down at the fallen Loki, he knew that what he wanted really was to fuck him bloody right there on the floor. And that that was exactly what he would do.

_(Excuse me? This is your common sense talking. Just wanted to let you know this is bloody stupid, and very, very dangerous, and I in no way recommend you to keep doing what you plan on doing. Hello? Anyone listening?)_

It was all white noise. Tony heard none of it. His engine was running, but there sure as hell was no-one behind the wheel. Even the ghost seemed to have departed. Just a body was left, driven by hatefueled arousal. And there was no turning back.

This time, the drug was still in full effect, and there was no hint of fighting back. Loki was all heavy, boneless limbs, his head moving into unnatural positions against the floor with Tony's every movement, the eyes staring straight into nothing at all. All things considered, Tony might as well have been fucking something dead. But he knew he wasn't, and that nothing that happened was lost on Loki. The paralysis would just be making it worse, if anything.

After, spent and shivering, Tony leaned over Loki to comb away the tangled, black hair from his face. Knowing that the gentle touches, a parody of care, would get to him as much as the pain, or even more.

”I knew you were the kind that likes to cuddle. Really. No need to be ashamed of that. We all have our guilty pleasures.”

Tony hadn't thought it was possible for Loki to cry in this state.

Turned out, he was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (So, yeah, I worked on this parallel to writing [Enabler](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2232744). Anyone care to guess how much of a complete mindfuck that was? Don't try this at home, kids!)


	10. In the Eye of the Beholder

For the first time since his long isolation had been broken, Loki stopped eating again. Days could pass when he didn't even touch the rations delivered to his cell, just barely drinking the water he needed. He hardly slept. He stopped sitting in the corner on the bed. He actually didn't come near the bed, ever. Instead, Loki curled up on the floor in the opposite corner when he sat down at all, which wasn't often.

The worst part of it all? What seemed to bother Loki the most? Probably the fact that Tony hardly came near him in the week that followed.

Just once more Tony had him. Once more on the cold, hard floor, leaving him half naked and sprawled out.

Other than that, Tony didn't lay a hand on him. Or a blade. He just kept trying to talk to Loki, like he had before, as if nothing out of the ordinary - for lack of a better word - had happened. As if there really was no need for Loki to be this upset.

What could possibly be wrong? Take it easy! Sit down, why don't you, and tell me more about the theory of teleportation.

It nearly drove Loki up the walls for the first few days, restless, raging, oozing frustration.

Then he started shutting down. Tony could see him do it. It was like a light had been turned off behind Loki's eyes. He did nothing more than stare, silently, and started scratching his own arm bloody again. It was obvious he was missing the relief of chosen pain more than ever, and Tony gave him nothing to help deal with that.

Loki pulled back from the world, a little bit more every day.

Tony just kept up his endless questions. They had become more of a monologue now. He hardly paused, knew there would be no answer anyway. Or anything else. Until one day, when soft words from the cell interrupted him, mostly through the sheer surprise that Loki still knew how to speak.

"Tell me something, Stark."

Tony looked up from his tablet.

Loki was in his new corner, on the floor, elbows on his drawn up knees, his head tilted forward against his knuckles, black hair falling into his face so that it was hard to make out more than the fact that his eyes were closed.

Tony didn't say anything.

"What do the others think?"

"Others?"

"Your Avengers. Your mighty heroes. Do they approve of this?"

Tony huffed a short laugh, but said nothing. Let Loki make what he wanted of that.

"Would the gentle creature hiding a beast enjoy knowing what you do with your blade?"

"He never will."

"Would the soldier with the innocent eyes approve of what you do to me on the floor of my cell?

Tony was quiet for that one. Even though he knew he shouldn't be. He just couldn't find an answer. All he could see was Steve's shocked face.

Loki opened his eyes to look at him through the tangled hair. "I thought not."

"Something gave you the impression that it makes a difference?"

"It will. The next time you face them all, it will."

"Yeah, maybe. Or maybe not. And in any case, you'll be long gone by then. If I were you, I'd ask a lot less and answer a lot more. Might live a bit longer that way."

"Something gave you the impression that I would want that?"

"No doubt about it."

"Oh?"

"Dying is the hardest thing for you to do." Tony leaned forward in his chair, giving Loki a small, lopsided smile. "You've spent your life cutting yourself up rather than _giving_ up. You keep falling down and getting back on your feet. Dying would be the ultimate insult to you. Your pride wouldn't allow it."

Loki slowly raised his head up straight as Tony spoke, his hair falling away to reveal a just barely interested face, lined with shadows even in the harsh lights of the cell. Some of the old glow passed by in his eyes, and then faded again. His mouth turned into a thin, tense line as his expression darkened, just like his eyes. Then he let his head fall back against his knuckles, closing his eyes, hidden behind the black hair again.

Tony glanced down at his tablet, then looked back at Loki, to test something.

"You can leave behind an image of yourself when you teleport away from a location, can't you?"

This time, Tony paused. Waited.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Yes."

The first answer he'd gotten in days.

"That's what you did on the helicarrier."

"Yes. It never fails."

The satisfaction in Loki's soft voice made Tony grit his teeth, fighting away the memory of a stack of bloody trading cards spread on a table. He held it back, getting what he could out of the moment.

_(Flattery. The ultimate weapon.)_

It hadn't been lies, though. Tony had meant every word about believing Loki completely unwilling to just give up and die. He really had. But he still also believed that could be changed. 

If he didn't, he wouldn't have been doing what he was doing.

  


* * *

  


Days passed the same way. 

Loki kept to his sulking, starving ways. Most of the time he was shut down and quiet, although sometimes he would answer a question. Seemingly at random, as if he just touched down temporarily in reality, happened to hear a question and stay long enough to answer, before he up and left again.

And Tony left him alone in his cell.

Which, as he had hoped, was what finally stirred Loki out of his silence.

Because while hurt and humiliation were a torment, waiting for the torment to come, and never knowing when it would, was even worse.

Tony had spent the entire efternoon asking questions, and had gotten exactly two and a half answers. (The half one was when Loki gave a 'yes', hesitated, turned away and gave a complex explanation to something that had nothing to do with the actual question put to him. All useless and pointless, as always.) Tired, his throat actually a bit sore now from all the talking, Tony got up to walk to the elevator, when he heard Loki speak up of his own volition, for the first time since he had asked about the Avengers.

”It has been some time since your last... Visit.”

”Hard to believe it, but you sound like you miss me.” Tony glanced over his shoulder at Loki, standing in the middle of the cell, before slowly walking on. ”You know what'll happen when I decide to walk in there.” 

”I do. But I thought you might not.”

”Oh yeah? How's that then?”

”Because I think you have yet to consider all your options.”

”Really?” Tony was only half listening, letting his mind wander.

”Is force really the only way you wish to go?” Loki's voice suddenly took on a soft, melodic timbre. "When there is so much more you could have of me, were I to give it willingly?"

_That_ got Tony's attention. He turned back, another question on his lips, and froze.

Loki was standing right by the wall, arms up, the palms of his hands flat against the glass just above his shoulders. His forehead was almost leaning against it too, and the expression on his face was intent, sharper than Tony had seen it in a long time now. The green eyes were glowing, and they seemed to hold the sum of every dirty hint, suggestion and invitation Tony had ever been on the recieving end of in his entire life. 

And those sure weren't few.

The effect was like a blow to the gut. Before Tony's brain had even had time to kick in and interpret what the fuck he was actually looking at, he felt his cock react to that look, pulsing heat gathering.

Holy _hell!_

Tony had nearly thought Loki was all but cracked. Broken. Ready to fall to pieces and spill his secrets all over the place. Instead here he was, offering himself in a way that didn't look even slightly desperate. His eyes willingly giving away a thousand secrets. 

The only problem was, that every single one of those secrets were _Tony's_. As if Loki had reached into the core of him, sensing every hidden stirring of desire he had ever felt.

All in an effort to gain himself some measure of control.

Because Tony was sure that this was no sudden change of heart. No revelation of lustful desires that had been there all along. This was trickery. Illusion. 

Loki's magic was taken from him, but that wasn't the source of his tricks; he was, all on his own. The magic was simply a tool. _He_ was doing this. And the pure skill of it was enough to at least completely win Tony's body over.

”Stop.” The word was so hoarse Tony barely heard it himself.

”Think on it, Stark.” Loki's right indexfinger started tracing tiny circles on the glass. ”Think on it well.” The tip of his tongue came out to wet the curve of his upper lip in the single most suggestive gesture Tony had ever seen. ”You found my purpose. And it need not be a burden. For any of us.”

”I said, stop!” Tony gritted his teeth, whipped around, and almost ran to the panel, to hit his hand over the control that released the gas.

Loki stayed by the wall, a tightlipped smile on his face, eyeing him intently every second until the effects of the chemical buckled his knees, crumpled him up on the floor.

”You crazy fuck!” Tony took the three long steps up to the glass, and kicked it, right in front of Loki's motionless face. ”You. Insane. Piece. Of. _Shit!_ ” Every word punctuated by another kick.

The paralysis had wiped the smile from Loki's lips, but it still sparkled in his green eyes.

It was that lingering glint that made Tony lose ever single shred of control. What little he had still been holding on to. He barely gave himsilf time to wait for the cell to be ventilated, before rushing in. With a quick movement he stepped up to the fallen figure, pulled his leg back and kicked the turned back, as hard as he could. The force of it banged Loki's forehead agaist the glass. 

Once. Twice. The third time he was sure he both heard and felt a rib crack.

It still wasn't satisfying enough.

Tony got down on one knee astride Loki, pulling him around with a hand gripping the front of his t-shirt, and raised a fist.

The first blow split an eyebrow, whipping Loki's head to the side on his limp neck. The second bruised a cheekbone. The third broke his nose.

Only then did Tony manage to force himself to stop. Panting heavily, a fist still hovering, he stared down at the broken face. Which in front of his eyes turned unbroken. The split eyebrow healing, the bruise fading while it still was forming, the crackling sound of the bones and cartilage in the nose righting itself, knitting together.

Bloody bubbles where forming on Loki's lips with every breath. The broken rib must have punctured a lung. But that was probably healing up as well.

Bloodstained, helplessly staring up into the possiblilty of more uncontrolled violence, and still, Loki was lying there, his bright eyes smiling up at Tony. As if nothing had even happened. Or – even worse – as if exacty what he had wanted had happened.

_Fuck._

Of course it was what Loki had wanted. 

His goddamn fix.

Tony stared down into those smiling, no, hell, _laughing_ eyes, and knew he had been played. Like a finely tuned instrument.

_(Thin ice, Tony. Thin ice. Back away. Right bloody now!)_

And he should. But he knew he never would.


	11. Bargain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Yes. Two chapters in one night. Crazy, right? But I had this baby almost done and couldn't stop before it was finished.)

Tony knew he had been ignoring his duties for too long now. 

The samples he had given Bruce had withered, sure, but he had the source of new ones right here, didn't he? The samples still had given Banner a lot of information before they had fallen to ashes, so there was no reason not to do it again. And again. As many times as needed.

He obviously wasn't getting anywhere like this, was he?

Loki was staying far away from the bed, and far away from Tony. Almost like it had been those very first few days, when Loki had still thought he could keep away, keep himself safe and protected. He knew better now, but maybe old habits died just as hard as Loki himself?

The gas brought him down anyway. As usual. And Tony didn't hesitate to walk into the cell. This time he was getting Loki on the mattress though, into the restraints. Doing it right.

On his side, back to the wall, Loki was staring out over the floor when Tony squatted down beside him, planning to drag him out from the wall, make it easier to lift him. On the balls of his feet, left arm on his knee, he reached an arm out to grab Loki's arm, when he for some reason happened to look down on the pale face.

Between one blink and the next, the green eyes rolled around, and fixed on his face.

”Fuck!”

How long had Loki been faking it? How long had he covered up that he was developing a resistance to the drug much faster than Tony thought?

He'd probably never know. Would definitely never know if he didn't get the hell out. Now.

Tony twisted around and got to his feet in the same movement, ready to head for the door of the cell. But he'd gotten too close to begin with, and he just didn't have the time, before arms came out to curl around his ankles. The arms where not strong enough to really grip his legs, but they sure had what it took to keep his feet in place, and then just let Tony's forward momentum do the job of pulling him off balance.

The only thing flashing through his mind as the floor quickly came up to meet him, was that Loki had been right.

Tony had turned his back at the wrong time. Even if it had turned out to be more metaphorically speaking. He had grown lax, lost his focus, stopped paying attention to what was happening, and even though he had been looking right at Loki when it happened, he might as well have had his back turned.

He had lost control and never even noticed. He had stopped using the bed, the restraints, checking his readings and numbers. He had left behind science, his promises, his intentions. Everything. And given himself over to simple revenge. 

Tony very much wanted to completely blame Loki for this, for tricking him into it. But he knew it wasn't true.

Sure, Loki had helped him along, eased the way, but Tony had willingly walked down it. All too willingly.

He had turned his back, and now Loki had him.

It was only just that he managed to get his hands between himself and the floor before he landed. The impact was still jarring and painful, but at least he didn't land flat on his arc reactor. That would have been really bad, on top of a situation that was already fucking catastrophic.

He felt the hands pull at his legs. They were clearly weakened by the drug, or they probably would have just snapped the bones, but not as weakened as they should have been, obviously. Tony didn't bother to look behind him, he just kicked out, hard as he could, got one leg free from the still fumbling grip, and started crawling towards the opening. With the help of the free leg he managed pretty well, even with Loki hanging on to the other.

When he got far enough to grab the glass edge of the wall, Tony actually started feeling a slim hope that he would make it. That he would get out. Clinging on, pulling himself forward, he could almost reach outside the cell, feel salvation.

That was when the grip on his leg found new power, pulling, wrenching, and managed to flip him over on his back.

Tony's hold on the glass didn't let go, and the turn made it pull the door along. Sliding, slowly, inevitably, to fall into place in the corner, closing. And he knew, of course, that the safety measures he had put into the thing would lock it automatically in ten seconds, if he didn't do it himself from the outside. With his head tilted as far back as it would go, Tony saw the glas slide smoothly into a resting position, heard the click when the two panes of glass met, and started counting.

One... Two... Three...

He heard a laugh, felt the hands paw at him, pulling him in, and angled his head back again. What he saw almost made him piss himself. Very literally.

If you were to look up the word _”insane”_ , Tony was damn sure an image of the terrifying, feral grin Loki's face was twisted into in that moment would cover the entire page. It showed more teeth than should be physically possible, the sunken cheeks were pulled into sharp lines, and there was no mirth in the green eyes, shooting sparks. Only toxic, burning hatred.

Four... Five... 

The door had to lock, or he would have nothing. Except the very slim chance that Loki might be in enough of a frenzy to kill him quickly. And he didn't feel like betting on that.

Seconds had never been so impossibly long.

Six...

Loki gripped his belt with one hand, the hem of his t-shirt with another, pulled again, and then that fucking grin was suddenly right above him. Tony tried getting up on his elbows, dragging himself back, but Loki was already straddling his hips, the long hands, growing stronger every moment, curling into fists, pulling at the neck of his t-shirt now.

Seven... Eight...

Tony somehow managed to return the grin, although he knew his was shaking. 

”Wrong move, asshole.” 

Nine... 

”Wrong move.”

Ten.

The sound of the lock activating wiped the grin from Loki's face instantly. His head snapped up to stare at the opening that was no longer there, and then back to Tony. Disbelief etched in every pale line now.

”Yeah, you really should have gone for the door instead of me.”

Loki let out a growling roar, pulling him up by a grip on the angles between his neck and shoulders, to shake him. Before the fingers moved to close around his throat.

In growing panic, Tony clawed at the hands pressing against him. Even without their full strength the fingers felt like metal clamps.

”Loki! Stop!” His voice was distorted by the preassure, but he got the words out, just. ”Kill me, never, get out!”

For a couple of seconds, that felt even longer than the countdown for the door to lock, Loki held on, a soundless snarl on his face. Then he suddenly and forcefully slammed Tony back down on the floor, letting go of his throat.

Gasping in painful breaths, his whole body tingling as if static electricity was crawling under his skin, Tony once more tried to get up on elbows and hands. As soon as he could move them. But Loki was still over him, heavy hands shifting, pinning him down by the shoulders.

Face to face, nothing but air between them, both of them free and moving, they hadn't been this close since the last time Loki had been the one with the upper hand. And Tony knew how that had ended.

"Release me!" The words were all teeth.

"Yeah, well, maybe. On a few conditions." The words hurt, but he made himself speak with some semblance of calm.

"You would _bargain_ with me?!" Loki's sharp fingers dug into the muscles of his shoulders and felt like they hit bone.

"If you kill me, you're stuck in here. So yeah, I would."

A growl. "You want to live then, I take it? The continuation of your foul existance, that is one of your conditions?"

"I kind of resent the way you put it, but yes, it is. Obviously."

"And what else?"

Tony made himself think fast. ”Turn yourself over to Thor. Go to Asgard and face whatever punishment they had thought out for you to begin with.”

Loki stared at him, and then burst out in a harsh, vicious laugh. ”I think _not_.” He sneered. ”I walk out of here to go free. I believe I have earned that.”

”Bet you do. But I don't.”

Growling again, Loki leaned back, pulling Tony with him off the floor. Loki's legs weren't completely steady under him yet, but he managed to get them both up on their feet, and then proceed to push Tony back against the glass instead. With his palms against the wall over Tony's shoulders, he leaned in to stare.

”If I kill you anyway – and you do know that I very much want to – what then?”

Tony had to admit that the restraint it had to take for Loki to not just do what he had threatened to do for so long, was pretty damn impressive. But on the other hand, it wasn't like Tony had anywhere to go now either. Loki had time.

”Then JARVIS will lock this whole Tower down so tight that the air hardly will be able to get in. And since there really is no-one out there waiting to get in touch with me at the moment, it could be a while before anyone even gives it a try.”

Tony pulled himself up a bit straighter, meeting the eyes that were just green fire out of deep shadows now.

”And when they do, they'll fail. And then they will know what's happened. And they will realize that the only one who can knock himself in here, is -”

”Thor.” It was a spitting hiss.

”Damned if you do. Damned if you don't.” 

Loki took a step back, raked his hands back through his hair. His eyes narrowed. It was hard to tell, but Tony almost thought Loki was also feeling just slightly, grudgingly, impressed.

”That's my bargain.” Tony stood away from the wall, to grin at him. ”So, who's the 'mewling quim' now?”

The backhanded slap was hard enough to nearly knock him out. But curled up on the floor in a red fog of pain, tasting blood, the only thing on Tony's mind was still _worth it!_ and not even a hint of regret.

He blinked in the bright lights that suddenly hurt his eyes, and lifted a weak hand to wipe blood from his split lip out of his goatee. There was a lot of it, though. Tony groaned and lifted his head just enough to look around the cell. Instincts told him to stay down, not provoke any more rage by looking like a threat.

Loki was squatting down in the middle of the cell, elbows on his knees and hands hanging between them, watching Tony with narrow eyes and brows thoughtfully drawn together over them. He noticed when Tony looked up, but didn't move so much as a muscle.

There was no way of knowing what was moving in that black head of his, but Tony was damn sure that whatever it was, those thoughts, almost loud enough to hear, were the only things keeping him alive right now. He was torn between letting them play out, and doing whatever he could to disturb them. Draw it all out.

But in the end, talking won out. As it tended to do.

”How long have you been plotting this thing then?”

Loki gave a snort. ”Since the first time your poison crippled me, of course. What else should I have done with my time?”

”Enjoyed my company?”

”Shut up, Stark.”

Tony considered it, he really did, but then decided against it. ”Yeah, well, I was thinking about adding some more conditions to my bargain.”

”Too late.”

”Even if you can add your own in return?”

Loki tilted his head to the side. ”What is important enough to you that you would give me anything in return?”

”You can't guess?”

The green eyes studied his face, the bruise that had to be forming on his cheek, the blood on his hand.

”You would remain unharmed?”

”Yes.”

Again with the cutting laugh. ”No. Of course not. There is nothing I want enough to do that.” Loki shook his head slowly. ”For now, while I think on my options, I will let you live. But leave you unharmed? No, that is not an option.”

Tony was at least slightly calmed by the decision to let him live; even if it was ”for now” it was still better than nothing. He slowly, carefully, sat himself up, wincing with the pain in his head. Then hissing a curse when the wince hurt his face. Leaning against the glass, he looked over at Loki, who was unfolding himself and staying there, standing, staring down at Tony.

”There really is nothing you would want more?” Tony pointedly fixed his gaze on the white gold cuffs around Loki's wrists.

Loki followed his look, lifted his arms and let one hand rub over the cuff on the other arm.

"I would love nothing more than to make you release me of these binds, Stark. But by the look and feel of them I am guessing only the All-Father could do so. Would that be correct?"

Tony sighed and made a half shrug, giving up. He should have known Loki wouldn't think him capable of removing the things. "Honestly? I didn't bother to ask."

"No?" Loki didn't take his eyes off the metal.

"You were meant to die in the damn things. What the hell would I care who got them off you after that?"

Staring at his bound wrists, Loki pulled a wry face. "I still might."

"Yeah? Well, I guess that's _something_ I've got going for me, then."

”Do you think so?” Loki's head came up, face cold as frost. ”You should reconsider. You were, after all, the one who put them on me. That is but one of your tresspasses against me, but surely one I will take vengeance for. It would be most foolish of you to doubt that.”

”You got some fucking nerve, you know that?” The anger made Tony sit up straigher, then leaning forward. He didn't even care about how much his scowl hurt his face. ”To come here, spreading death and ruin everywhere you turn, and then acting like you didn't have any of this coming! You threw me out of a fucking _window_!”

”You got in my way, you vermin!” Loki stepped closer, to glare straight down at him from above. 

Tony would have protested, but something in the freezing fury of that face held the words back.

”And a fall is not such a horrible death, Stark.” With that, Loki suddenly came sweeping down, to pull Tony up on his feet. By his hair. Screaming in pain and angered fear. ”At least not one that _ends_!”


	12. Into Darkness

Staring the threat of imminent death in the face wasn't new to Tony. He'd done it before. He _had_ died. Been lost. Turned into a ghost.

Perhaps a man who was already dead and gone shouldn't fear dying all over again, but Tony still found himself prepared to fight it. Unwilling to turn himself over to the darkness. Again. Because he wasn't just staring at death; he was also staring at the face of his unfinished business. The thing that had turned him into a ghost in the first place.

And his business with Loki was becoming decidedly more unfinished by the second.

Loki's hands where still gripping his hair, making his scalp sting and burn, on top of the ache where he'd used that grip to pull Tony up from the floor. The insane, feral grin was back in place, and Tony was very far from sure that Loki's decision to let him live "for now" was going to hold up.

"I thought I should attept to tell you how much I am going to enjoy this." Loki's voice was thick, distorted by the grin it was pushed through. "But then again, I do not have to, do I? You have taken pleasure in my pain already. You know how this will make me feel, Stark."

Tony knew. And he could feel the bile and acid rising at the thought.

"Unlike you, I will not need the methods of the coward or the weakling, however. Nothing will come between you and me now. Nothing!"

Then Loki twisted his hair even harder, pulling his head back and to the side, and _bit him_ , like a fucking animal. Not in Tony's actual throat, not where it would cause fatal damage, but in the junction between shoulder and neck, his sharp teeth cutting into skin and muscle. Tony knew that was something that would leave a mark, probably forever, even before he felt blood trickle down his skin.

It hurt like a burning piece of hell, and the primitive, intimate nature of a mouth and teeth tearing into him made it so much more horrible, in ways Tony would have never been able to even guess at before it happened. It wasn't just the pain, it was the disturbing closeness of it. The animal in Tony responded to this threat and this injury in a way it wouldn't have, and hadn't, to other cuts, or blows, or even a chestful of shrapnel.

The shrieking noise it drove out of him, that echoed back at him from the walls of the cell, Tony couldn't believe was actually his. He lashed out, hitting and pushing at Loki, kicking, and all the while knowing it was completely useless. The hands holding him were more than enough to do what he had needed chemicals and restraints to do to Loki; keeping him helplessly in place.

Long before it was over, Tony was sure it was going to drive him out of his mind.

And then it got worse.

Loki's mouth let go, finally, but not his hands. They just pulled Tony closer, made his hitting and pushing if possible even more useless when he had no space at all left to put real force behind it.

"For a creature made of such utter filth, you taste surprisingly sweet." It was a purr, pleased and smooth.

Just the feeling of hot breath on his skin was bad enough. But then Tony felt Loki's tongue touch him, sweeping over the bite, lapping at the blood. Flaring pain mixed with such a profound disgust that it made him shiver and shudder, going weak at the knees, almost hanging by the grip on his hair.

There really was nothing coming between them, every layer stripped away, and for just a brief, fleeting moment, it made Tony wish he could let go and give up.

_(I want out! I don't want to play this game any more! I'm out! Please, wake me up!)_

Even as he thought that, though, the sheer stubbornness that was in him fought back, started protesting, and he knew he wouldn't be able to give in. Not yet. But a part of him was starting to suspect, strongly, that he would be begging to, before this was over.

It had taken him _months_ to get to Loki in a way that really affected him. Or at least had seemed to. Tony wasn't sure of anything about it anymore.

It had taken Loki mere seconds to do the same to him.

Tony was out of his league, so far out that there would have to be a new phrase for it. Loki hadn't been throwing around empty boasts when he had been saying that he would make Tony's actions look like child's play. He had known exactly what he was talking about.

Loki turned him, let go of him with a flick of his wrists that threw Tony back against the glass wall, to slide down it to the floor. He was panting, feeling sick, sensing his whole world unraveling, coming apart at the seams faster than he had thought possible. When he finally worked up the strength to look up, Loki was standing at almost the other wall, studying him intently.

There was blood on Loki's lips. A drop of it had run down the side of his chin. When he met Tony's eyes, his tongue moved over his upper lip, getting another taste, in a mock reflection of the suggestive gesture he had made just a day ago.

Tony gagged a that. Almost heaved, but swallowed it back.

"The sight of your own blood is not as pleasing to you then, I take it?"

"Unlike you, I don't cut myself up for fun." Tony's voice was gravel. "I like it better where it is."

"That is unfortunate, since you will not be able to keep all of it."

"Really? I'd never have guessed. Thanks for the heads up, though." Tony had no idea where the energy to be so flippant came from. He felt like he might keel over and die any second, just worn out by fear and pain and burning anger. Mostly with himself and the stupidity that had landed him in this situation.

Loki just smiled. His teeth were stained red.

For a while, everything was eerily still and quiet between them. Then Loki raised his eyes to let them wander over the ceiling, and the lab outside.

"You do know what is coming, do you not?" He didn't look at Tony as he spoke. "And soon, too."

Of course he did. He'd set the timer, after all, hadn't he?

The lights would go out. And unlike the cameras he was usually watching the cell through, Tony had no night vision. When they went out, it would go black. Completely.

He swallowed. Hard.

Darkness had not been a friend of his lately. It reminded him of the void, of the emptiness, of nothing, of dying. And the prospect of sharing this little piece of pitch black space with Loki? Yeah, not great. It was going to be a night to remember, for sure, but not in the good way.

Tony wished he could have turned the timer off, but it was one of the few manual parts of this, that were run by accessing the control panel on the wall outside.

A movement made Tony's eyes flick up, but Loki wasn't coming for him. He was walking over to the bed, which he hadn't used since Tony had fucked him on it. Hadn't even come close to it, actually. Now he slowly sat down, and then pretty much draped himself over it, as if it was the most enjoyable place to rest in the world. He was even lying on his stomach, one arm hanging over the edge of the mattress, the other curled under his head.

Loki raised an eyebrow to look over at Tony through half closed eyes, a smile playing in the corner of his lips.

”If you think you can sneak out in the night before I stop you, think again.” Loki jawned, looking very much like a huge jungle cat, stretched out on a branch. ”Just to let you know which plans are useless to you.”

Tony recognized his own words as Loki spoke them, and pulled his legs up, curling his arms around them. 

Then came a click, and all at once the room was plunged into complete darkness. And complete silence.

Tony could hear his own rasping, panting breaths, and nothing else. Loki's must be too soft to be heard over his. But then came a quiet laugh, that reached him easy enough.

”Goodnight, sweet prince. I will see you tomorrow.”

  


* * *

  


He had never thought it would be possible, but sometime during the dark eight hours, Tony actually fell asleep. He must have, because the lights flickering on really woke him up, didn't just pull him back out of darkness. Realizing he was still alive was both a relief and sort of a surprising shock.

Squinting, he moved. And then quickly wished he hadn't.

His head, face and shoulder where aching furiously, and his neck, back and hip where stiff and sore after spending a night on a hard floor. But the head and shoulder were in complete agreement that the rest of his body had had it easy and should just shut the fuck up, because others had _real_ problems, thank you very much.

The neck of his t-shirt was stuck to the bitewound, caught in the dried blood, and when Tony pulled it free he started bleeding again.

This might possibly be one of the worst mornings in his entire life. So far.

Tony made another attempt at sitting himself up, and did better this time. With a palm cradling his forehead, he glanced up to find out where his cellmate was at the moment.

Loki was still on the bed, as it turned out, but awake as well, sitting up and watching him already. The easy smile was gone, though, his face thoughtful again. If he'd slept on the matter of Tony's chances of survival, it didn't look like he was any closer to an answer anyway.

Tony wasn't sure how he felt about that.

A sound made Tony twitch and jump, but it was just the panel sliding open to deliver this mornings rations of food and water. He blinked at the things, as if they were foreign objects from some unknown world, and then looked at Loki again, who was still studying him.

It hit him how quickly they had been reduced to nothing more than animals. Biting. Establishing a pecking order. And Tony knew he was at the bottom of it. Loki was without a doubt the dominant beast in this enclosure. By the ancient rule of age and strength that anything living in any world defers to in the end. Law of nature.

If Tony was going to eat or drink, it would be because Loki _allowed him to_.

The thought was like a truckload of bricks had just been dropped all over Tony's ego and pride.

Oh. Fucking hell.

That hurt worse than the backhand and the bite combined.

”You are in need of nourishment, Stark?” The question sounded a bit curious.

”No.”

It wasn't a lie. He was still too nauseous and would never be able to keep anything down. But he was thirsty, very much so, and couldn't keep from eyeing the bottle of water. Which of course wasn't lost on Loki.

Loki didn't answer. He just got off the bed, retrieved the rations, and sat back down in the same spot, before leaning back and crossing his legs. Then he ate. Slowly. Every last scrap of food there was. And drank. Tony's mouth felt even more like a desert at the sight. When half the bottle was empty, Loki stopped, and looked straight at him across the cell. The expression on his face was smooth and passive, but the challenge was so clear he might as well have been screaming it out at the top of his lungs.

Tony ground his teeth, ignoring the pain in his cheek. He knew Loki was going to make him ask for it. Beg for it, probably. And he knew he needed that water, badly. If he didn't drink, he would fold under whatever was to come even faster.

”I'm thirsty.” A simple statement of fact seemed like a neutral enough place to start.

”Is that so?”

”Yes.”

”And?”

”I need water.”

”So it would seem.”

” _That_ water.”

”Oh? Really?”

”Yes!” Tony was losing his patience pretty quickly, but tried to rein it in.

”And you think you can have it?”

Tony glared for a moment. The ghost was howling and rattling his chains. Tony fought it down.

”If you'll let me.” He pulled a deep breath, and then pushed through the searing pain of it. ”Please?”

Loki's face stayed smooth. He raised the hand holding the bottle nearly to his mouth again, and Tony felt his insides turn to sand. Then Loki raised the other hand, holding the cap, and put it back on the bottle. He slowly leaned forward, reached his arm out, and gently tossed the bottle towards Tony. It landed halfway through the cell, rolled most of the rest of the distance, stopping just out of arm's length from him.

For a moment Tony stared at it. Then at Loki. Then at the bottle again, before he quickly reached out, grabbed it, and drank it all in one long swallow. It wasn't enough, not really, but it took the edge off his thirst.

The relief was purely physical. In his head, everything was just getting worse.

_(How long will it be before he has me crawling at his feet for scraps?)_

No, _fuck this_!

Tony slammed the empty bottle down on the floor beside him.

”You going to kill me or not, Loki?”

”Not this very moment, no.”

”When, then? I've got more important things to do than sit here and wait for you to make your crazy mind up.”

”I highly doubt that.” Loki crumbled up the plastic that had wrapped his food, and threw it at the tray in the wall by the panel. He hit it at just the right angle, and speed, to make the sensors open the panel and suck it in before it rolled off the other side. Then he turned to Tony again. ”You have spent what has to be your every waking hour here, with me, for weeks. I am fairly certain you watch and listen even when I cannot see you. Anything important to you is already in this room. In this very cell, even.”

Tony pulled his head back, a movement that made his bitten muscle hurt, and had absolutely no idea what to say. Because it was all true. 

His world had been reduced to the lab, the cell, Loki, and himself, a long, long time before he had ended up in the locked center of that universe. There was no way to deny that, that would sound remotely believable. Even to himself.

When words finally did find their way out of his mouth, they seemed to have formed there, ready to fall from his lips. His mind had had nothing to do with them.

”If you get that, you have to know I will never let you go free from here. Ever. I _will_ die before I let you out, and if I die, I bet where you end up after this will get worse than if I don't.”

”Very likely.” Loki almost looked bored. ”But _you_ also have to know that I cannot let you go so easily. Live or die, you owe me. And I will make you pay your debt before you leave, whether to walk out of that door, or to enter whatever sort of afterlife the likes of you can expect.”

Tony had that feeling of a fuse in his head burning that always proceeded him saying something he was going to regret.

”If you're going to put me over your knee and spank me for being bad, you might as well get it over and done with.”

Loki's eyes actually grew a bit wider at the words. Then his mouth stretched into another grin. Not the bloodthirsty, wolfish one that had crazy glinting off of his teeth, but something slower, more calculated, and if possible even more worrying.

”That's quite the delightful image, Stark.”

Internally, Tony winced and cursed. On the surface, he kept as still and blank as he could. Even as Loki placed his feet on the floor, stood, and came closer. But when those long legs were right in front of him, Tony still could feel himself cower, just slightly, and hated himself for it.

”But I have other plans for you.”

A hand came down, gripping the bitten shoulder. Hard. And pulling him to his feet by it. The pain of it was enough to make Tony yell out, and both that and the way his head was spinning, eyes darkening, made his legs almost buckle as soon as he was standing. He fell forward, hands instinctively coming up for support, and when he could see clearly he was leaning into Loki's chest, palms against muscles and bone.

”So eager to find out?”

Tony pushed back, trying to move away again now that he had control over his legs, and he actually got help with that when Loki's other arm came up to pin him against the wall.

”Let me give you a hint, then.” Loki's voice was a purr again, ”There _are_ knees involved. But not mine...”


	13. Kneel

Loki made him kneel.

Obviously. It wasn't as if Tony hadn't seen that one coming from miles away. But as everything seemed to be with Loki, it was not as simple as he would have thought, not what he would have expected. 

It was a lot worse.

Loki first placed a hand around the back of his neck, to pull him away from the wall again, leading him like that to the center of the cell. Tony tried dragging his feet, resisting, but he had nothing to hold on to, and soon he was standing in the middle of the floor. There, Loki let go, and backed away to stand opposite him, still grinning.

”Now. Kneel, Stark.”

And Tony knew why he had let go. Loki could have just forced him down, kicked his legs bent under him, but that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted Tony to do it to himself.

From the start, Tony had thought this whole kneeling thing Loki had going to be a load of bullshit. Just another crazy idea from a guy who thought he could one day place his ass on some throne and be king of the world. Literally. Some ancient, backwards notion of what ruling really was all about. Shakespeare in the park kind of nonsense. The full tilt diva doing his thing.

He hadn't really gotten the point. Not until this very moment. Hadn't really seen the meaning of it. And now, that made him feel stupid. Because there was a meaning, of course. Deeper than he had ever considered, when he had been brushing the idea off as simple acting out.

Kneeling was submitting. Making yourself smaller and weaker and admitting someone elses power over you. Accepting it and honouring it.

It was defeat, and devotion.

At least, if you did it willingly. If your head, and preferably your heart, was in it. If not, it was meaningless, just another position to force a body into. The important thing wasn't to have Tony on his knees, after all; it was getting him _to kneel_. Choosing to do it. 

Bullying people into mindless obedience was just fine, for the faceless crowd. Here and now, just the two of them, face to face? Tony was sure that nothing less than him thinking it through and consciously making the decision to do it would be enough.

But how in the actual fuck was Loki going to accomplish that?

That question scared Tony more than anything. He knew that Loki wasn't the physical kind of man. He didn't believe in hitting and fighting to get his way. Not really, not when he had the opportunity to choose his own methods. He was all about talking, getting inside your head, under your skin. and those were the last places Tony wanted Loki.

"No."

"Oh, yes, you will." Loki's face was calm, almost serene, watching Tony with strangely soft eyes. Like he was a child who didn't know his own good, but was about to learn. Come to his senses.

It set Tonys teeth on edge.

"No fucking way will I do that. Ever. You'll have to come over here and make me. I'm staying on my feet."

There came no answer. Loki just clasped his hands behind his back and watched him. And then, he moved. Slowly walking around Tony in a circle. Having Loki behind his unprotected back gave Tony chills, but he knew he wasn't supposed to turn. He had been put in this spot to stay in it, and he didn't have the strength to fight every sick rule and command. One was enough, for now.

"I can wait, Stark. I am in no hurry what so ever."

The voice was close by his left ear, and made Tony startle. He hadn't noticed the man come near him.

Tony gritted his teeth. "Forget it. You're no king, never were, and I -"

"I was. Once." Loki cut him off, as he came to face him again. "The throne of Asgard was given to me, rightfully. Taken away again as well, yes, but I was a king."

Tony glared, profoundly unimpressed.

"For us, that makes no difference, however." Loki obviously wasn't bothered by his lack of interest. He contiuned his slow circles as he spoke, his tone of voice soft and thoughtful, strangely... Soothing?

What the hell?

"Royal titles, thrones and crowns. That is not what will inspire you to get down on your knees. I know that well. You recognize no authority but your own. Your own head. Even your fellows and their sentimental hearts mean nothing to you. You simply choose your path and follow it, no matter what others might say or think."

The voice behind him made Tony's shoulders pull up. He forced them back down. He wished he could force his ears closed as well.

"In battle, you are the same. Not a follower, not a soldier, you do not fall into rank and file. You fight alone, taking on any foe. Fearless."

"You trust nothing and no-one fully, apart from your own head and the things you have used your brilliant mind to create. Your tools and your weapons. But those? Yes, those you trust completely. With your life. Constantly, I should think." Loki stopped briefly to put a finger to the glow under Tony's t-shirt, but then moved on.

"You arm yourself, to fight alone, in war and in life, and you are relentless. But not cold, I think. No, never cold. Like the iron you named yourself after, you were forged in heat, and you chose red as your colour, because you burn. Burn hot. And you scorch the ones closest to you worse than you do your foes."

It felt like his soul was coming apart. Picked to pieces under Loki's fingers.

"Stop."

"You can make me, Stark. At any time. You know how."

In the waiting silence that followed, Tony felt his legs shake, but he made them keep straight. Willed himself to remain standing.

"What you wish and want are what you go after, and what you do." Loki carried on when he knew Tony was not giving up, yet. "But secretly, you are ashamed of that fact. You fear nothing more than you do lack of control. And lack of conviction. Of purpose."

There came a soft laugh by Tony's right shoulder.

"Even taking me here, you did not speak of vengeance, even though we both knew it burned in your heart. No, you claimed to honour promises, a greater good, to want to make use of me. But still, it did not take you long to abandon all such things, and instead work towards satisfying your own needs, your wish to break me, for the sake of your own revenge."

Loki slowly came around on his left, his voice even softer.

"Your head rules, your heart follows, and you live to serve yourself alone."

Tony blinked, feeling numb.

"What the hell _are_ you?" It was barely a whisper.

Loki stopped in front of him again, once more with the gentle look in his eyes. 

"You still do not understand?" He came closer, and Tony found himself tilting his head back just ever so slightly, to hold his gaze. "I am in nearly all things the same kind of creature you are, Stark. Where you are heat, I am cold, but we are in so many things alike. Through myself I know you, and I am sure you have realized the same. Is that not so?"

And Tony remembered then, the deep down knowledge of their similarities, the thought that made him punish Loki with silence and isolation rather than anything else. Because he knew it would work. Because it would have worked on Tony.

The way they were both completely, utterly, ferociously refusing to surrender; to each other, or to anything.

He said nothing, but he knew he didn't have to.

"Your head rules you, and I know your head. Even from behind these walls, I have touched it. Guided it. You know this." Loki smiled. It was so cold there was nearly frost covering his lips. "Your head rules you, but I command it."

Tony wanted to protest it. Stand up to him. In all senses of the word. But he could not.

Under his skin, in his head. The last places he had wanted Loki. And now he had to grasp the fact that Loki had been there all along. Tony felt himself crumble under the weight of that insight. He felt his legs fold, almost of their own will, even though he knew he had made the choice. That he had admitted defeat.

He had never thought it would happen, but in the end, Tony did kneel.

  


* * *

  


If there had been any sort of justice in the world, and more specifically in their isolated, locked up part of the world, that would have been the end of it. But there was none, and it wasn't.

On his knees, shoulders fallen forward, lost in dark thoughts, it was a while before Tony realized that Loki was quiet as well. He blinked, felt like he was waking up from uneasy sleep, and looked up.

Loki wasn't in front of him anymore. He had moved to the side, his eyes on the floor.

Tony pulled a deep breath, started shifting his weight back off his knees, preparing to get his feet back under him and stand. He hardly had time to start making a move, however, before Loki turned. Just one swift step, spinning on his toes like a dancer, and suddenly Loki was standing by his left shoulder, a hand heavy on it, keeping him in place.

"No. Not until I tell you to." 

”Oh, what the hell?” Tonys voice was weary even in his own ears. ”Isn't this enough?”

”Nothing ever is.” Loki sqeeezed his shoulder, once again the bitten one, and made Tony wince. ”Now, stay down until told otherwise.”

It got painful a lot quicker than you might think. First of all from his body pressing its own weight against the floor, resting on kneecaps, shins and the bony fronts of his feet. No padding. Then from muscles tensing up, cramping from staying still too long, and dealing with the increasing pain it wanted to move away from.

One pain fed the other.

Tony's mind wandered first. Restlessly. Aimlessly. Just trying to get away, to be anywhere but here, where he was obeying painful commands and had _no way to get out._. When that didn't work, the pain pulling him back, he started to have moments that were just blank, where he had no idea where he had been.

One of those blank moments ended with him on the floor, slumped over on his side. He didn't remember moving, or falling, or however he had got there. He barely had time to open his eyes and understand what had happened before hands caught his shoulders, from behind, and lifted him back on his knees.

Tony groaned, his body protesting the return to a kneeling position. Wildly.

”This might come as a surprise to you, I guess, but I'm not _actually_ made of iron.” He spoke with his eyes closed. ”I get the dissappointment, but there it is.”

”I know. That is why this will not take much longer.”

 _What_ wasn't going to take much longer?

Apart from cracking him apart, driving him out of his mind, rendering him totally insane and ready to give up?

Yeah, stupid question, really, wasn't it?

He fell over again pretty quickly. This time he was conscious when it happened, but couldn't stop it anyway.

The third time he fell, he cried when Loki lifted him back up. And he didn't stop. The tears just ran silently down his face.

When he felt hands on his shoulders the next time, he thought that he had toppled over again, without noticing, but then he understood that the hands weren't lifting him up this time. They were pulling him down. Placing him on the floor. Tony still didn't open his eyes. He just pressed his forehead against the cool surface that came up to meet him, and everything went dark. For a long time.

  


* * *

  


He woke up still on the floor, but now curled up by the glass wall again. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes were half a bottle of water, and the half eaten leftovers of the parcel of food, placed directly in front of his face where he couldn't possibly miss them. Without even looking up, Tony propped himself on an elbow, pulled the things closer, and made really short work of finishing all of it.

Then he rested on the floor again, eyes closed, feeling his stomach grumble and have a serious monologue about whether to accept this as an offering, or take it as an insult and throw it all back up. In the end, it decided to keep it.

Tony carefully opened his eyes then, just enough to see some of the cell through his eyelashes. He still could make out Loki, sitting in his old spot in the corner on the bed, back in the angle of meeting walls, legs crossed, palms resting on his thighs. The pose and the atmosphere in the room were calm enough for Tony to dare open his eyes, and sit up for real.

Moving made Loki's eyes turn on him, but he had expected that.

He had not, however, expected Loki to unfold himself from that spot, get up and come over to instead sit down beside Tony on the floor. Not close enough that their arms were touching, but not very far from it. Tony glanced up at the pale face, but all he got was a sharp profile.

What kind of fresh hell was this, then? What could there be left, for Loki to come near him again?

The fact that he was the weaker one was already proven beyond a doubt, even though there really hadn't been any to begin with. He was very obviously physically dependent on Loki's mercy. 

Loki had demonstrated his irresistable power to manipulate Tony's mind into whatever he damn well pleased. Driven the point home painfully, forcefully enough to almost crack Tony's knees under it.

What else was there left to do?

He might as well ask, right?

”What do you want?”

Loki turned his face on him then, looking decidedly... Innocent? That could hardly be a good sign. ”Must I want something?”

”Most of you is want, and the rest is need. Has to be one or the other.”

”You would know, being made up of the same parts.”

”Is there any way we could downplay the ”peas in a pod” thing? It makes my hair hurt.”

”You were the one to seek my company to begin with, Stark.”

” _Company_?”

”Quite forcefully, too.”

Tony eyed the still inoffensive looking face. Yeah, there was something going on in there, and it bugged him that he couldn't figure out what.

”So. You're here for... 'Company'?” He made it sound as suggestive as he possibly could manage.

”I am really not so inclined, I'm afraid.”

"Oh? And here I had such high hopes of you offering yourself willingly. Like you promised."

Loki raised a sharp, black eyebrow, and looked highly amused. "Really?"

Tony gave a huff of laughter, in spite of himself, in spite of all of it. "No."

With the same amused expression on his face, Loki slowly turned towards him, moved closer, and Tony felt himself press his back against the glass, sliding a bit to the side, to get away.

"But you want me, do you not?" The innocence was fading fast. ”Willing or not?”

"What?!" Tony felt his jaw drop, before he could gather himself enough to form words again. " _Hell_ no!"

"I have felt something that suggested otherwise."

"You think _that's_ what that was about?! I fucked you 'cause I knew you'd hate me for it! What the hell did you think?"

"You did. But that is not the only reason. You wanted it, as well, for yourself." Loki tilted his head to the side, still coming closer. ”The mere thought of the soldier seeing you with me made you turn white as paper. And you claim no deeper, personal reasons?”

It had? Yeah, okay, maybe it had. He sure remembered the shock of the thought when Loki had planted it in his head. And now he understood the reason for it, Loki judging his reaction to being found out by his peers. But what the hell? It was Steve! That didn't mean shit!

"You're insane. You know that, right? I in no fucking way _want_ you, you crazy son of a bitch!"

"If not, you would not so easily have fallen for my trick of offering myself."

"I didn't. I knew it was a trick. What I said before was a _joke_." Tony gave a snort. "I'm not stupid, you know?"

"That you are not. But i didn't say you did not know it for a trick, Stark. I said you fell for it." The green eyes were so close they filled the world now, Loki on all fours over his stretched out legs on the floor. 

Something about it made Tony lose his words. All of them.

"Your eyes betray more than you think. Dark. Their roots go deep. I can tell.” The bright eyes and velvet voice were hypnotic. ”What they show, comes from the core of you. And I saw all of it.

A hand slid up the inside of Tony's thigh, ever higher. He was as paralyzed by Loki's eyes as Loki had been by the drug, and unable to do or say anything to stop it. And then the palm settled over his groin, pressing against him, and...

_(Oh, no! Shit! No, no, no! Fucking hell! Tell me this isn't happening! Tell me it's not real!)_

But it was.

Another one of those too-hard-to-even-be-human erections was filling Loki's hand, straining the fabric of his jeans, and he had never noticed it until it was touched. Now it was suddenly pretty much all he was aware of. He could feel the warmth of Loki's hand through the pants. But he still couldn't take his eyes away from Loki's, caught like a deer in headlights.

”Get your hand... Off of me... Right now.” His tongue felt thick, and he hardly recognized his own voice under the gravel and catching breath.

”Not just yet.” Deft fingers were unfastening buttons, quickly. ”I have a point to prove, Stark.”

_(Stop! I'm really out this time! Wake me up! Right bloody now!)_

_(Please?)_

Another hand joined the first. Loki must be sitting astride his legs now, but Tony couldn't feel his body. Or anything, besides those long, thin fingers finding their way in under his clothes, pulling at them, and at _him_. It still felt unreal, like it couldn't possibly be happening.

Then Loki had his cock free of cloth and elastic, and closed his entire hand around it, fingertips meeting his palm. And all of a sudden, reality came crashing in on Tony, violently.

His head had moved towards Loki, completely without Tony's consent. Now he pulled it back, hard, banging the back of it against the glass and not even feeling it. His hands came up to push at Loki, force him away, the part of his mind that knew it to be futile temporarily unavailable. He tried to use his legs to move, but they really were pinned between Loki's. All that happened was that his efforts pushed him further sideways along the glass, until he lost his balance and fell on his side. Which, of course, in no way stopped what was happening.

”Why, you are even falling before me, Stark.” Loki, again with the purr, moved in to stay above him, his wide shoulder pressed against the clear wall, his hand still firmly gripping Tony's cock. Before starting to stroke it, still firm, with clear purpose. ”You will have to admit it.”

Tony's hands still beat at him, pushing at his chest. To no avail. Loki didn't even react, until Tony started aiming for his face. Then Loki made an annoyed, impatient little noise, and effortlessly caught both Tony's hands in his free one, pushing them down on the floor above Tony's head, his other hand never even slowing down as he did. And the worst part was that the grip on his hands wasn't even painful. It was just holding him in place.

It was hard to think of a way that they could have attempted to get to each other in more different ways.

While Tony had used his artificial power over Loki to humiliate him with helpless hurt, and physical violence, forcing himself upon his body, Loki had found the crack in Tony's armour that would let him force himself in to fuck with Tony's mind, not bothering with breaching his body to do it. Why should he, when he so simply could turn that body on itself, making everything even worse by having it betray Tony's every secret?

Loki had been attacked from the outside only. Tony had to fend against an invading hand, and a traitorous body.

He was lost. He closed his eyes, tight, shutting Loki out the only way he could, but he still heard the smooth chuckle from the face he knew was hanging just above his own. And in the darkness inside Tony, it was just him and the hand on him, stroking, twisting gently, pushing down around the root of him _(just the right fucking way and how the hell did he even know he should do it like that to drive Tony completely fucking nuts?)_ , and a thumb coming in to rub over the head of his cock, slick with pre-cum, moving down to take the wet stimulation with it to the sensitive edge on the underside.

It was everything and horrible and amazing and completely ruining, destroying, breaking and cracking him.

When Tony felt himself bucking up into Loki's hand, using what little room he had left to move, he knew he'd given up.

His eyes flew open, and he stared right up into the pale and green, shining with dark amusement still.

”I hate you.” Tony just managed to pant the words out, teetering at the edge.

”And I hate you.” Something in his tone made it sound perversely affectionate.

That ignited the last burning shiver down Tony's tortured spine, and he came undone. In every sense of the word.

He emptied over Loki's fingers, still holding him.

Inside, some part of him that had been fundamental to who he was, something load bearing, tilted, fell, and everything came crashing down.

  


* * *

  


24 hours. 

That was almost exactly how long he had been in the cell. From just before one lights out to just before the next.

That was how long it had taken to pick him apart, turn him into a thousand pieces that would never again fit together into the same sum of parts it had once been. 

On the surface, what Loki had done to him might look like nothing, compared to what Tony had done to Loki to begin with. But that was far from true. There had been less bood and violence, yes, but he was no less broken for it. Everything he had done, everything he was, had been turned around and used against him until there was nothing to hold on to, without it turning into a sharp edge, cutting his fingers.

As he curled up on the floor in the dark, Tony really hoped this was what it would take for Loki to consider his debts paid, in full. But somehow he still doubted it.


	14. Deconstructed

Tony Stark was dead.

Again. Or was the word he was looking for ”still”? Or possibly ”more than ever”? Were there degrees to which you could be dead? 

There was still a body in the world, with a breath and a heartbeat, that looked like him, dressed like him and answered to his name. But it gave a lot less snappy remarks, and there was not a drop of scotch in sight. Even though he really, really wished there had been.

Tony felt like a box containing a 5000 piece puzzle. You had the image of what it should come out looking like right there on the front, but shaking it? Yeah, all you could hear was this overwhelming amout of rattling chaos. Shapes and colours would pour out that made absolutely no sense. And you knew the hours and hours it'd take you to put it together, that there would probably be at least three pieces missing in the end anyway, and you'd end up getting bored, leaving the box to gather dust on a shelf somewhere, forgotten.

But he also was starting to understand that he wouldn't be the one to put the pieces together. Loki would. And you just _knew_ he wasn't the kind to care about what the front of the box said the result should be. Or if the pieces were really meant to fit together the way he wanted them to.

Tony had finally figured out that he wasn't the only tinkerer in the room. Not the only mechanic. Not the only one who picked things apart to know what made them up, made them tick, even though the kind of devices they preferred to work with were very different.

During his second day in the cell, Loki left Tony alone.

He spent it curled on the floor, feeling his mind wander the paths of long, winding thoughts and hoped he would still be able to follow them in the end. A lot of the time, he watched Loki. Who was in his corner, rarely met Tony's gaze, and seemed to spend the time wandering the landscape of his own mind.

For the first time, Tony found himself wondering what that mind was really like. He had figured it was metal cogs and gears, because that's what made up his own mind. But he had begun to think he'd had it all wrong, making that assumption. Loki didn't work like that.

Now, Tony was beginning to think it had to be something softer and more flexible, untangible. Perhaps something more like water? Something you couldn't really catch in your hands, something that moved and adapted, could fill any shape or space, get into every crack, wear down any surface, given enough time.

Tony's mind was iron stuctures, but Loki had gotten to it, and we all know what water does to iron, don't we? He could feel the rust forming in the cracks, knew it was already spreading, making every part of him thinner and more brittle, wondered how long it would take before it covered eveything, making the machinery seize up.

The fact that he was even trying to think about the inside of Loki's head was in many ways new. 

Before, the only reason to consider it had been to think about how he could make that alien mind hurt and break. It hadn't felt real to him. Loki hadn't felt real. He had been something abstract and strange, an invading force in the world and Tony's life that had shattered so much of what he had believed in.

He still was all those things. Tony wasn't forgiving or forgetting. He couldn't. But part of him was starting to sense that Loki never did anything without some reason. There was something to him that wasn't simply some careless, destructive force, and it didn't match the image Tony had painted of Loki in his head before.

When Loki would have him kneeling, Tony had thought to himself that given the opportunity to choose his own methods, Loki didn't go for violence or fights.

And yet, he'd come to Earth kicking and killing, bringing an army in his wake.

It was... off? Wasn't it?

Maybe he hadn't had the opportunity to choose his own methods?

Somewhere around there, Tony looked up from the path his thoughts had led him down, and found himself in a strange landscape where everything seemed turned upside down. He decided to not keep following that path.

Loki only left his corner to feed Tony the scraps of food and drinks of water that were left over. Tony didn't refuse. What he got was little enough. His pride, or what was still left of it, would just have to swallow it.

Tony drifted in and out of sleep, in and out of conscious thought, as the day passed by in silence. Everything hurt, he barely had the energy to keep breathing at some points, running on fumes and the insanity of stubbornness.

When the time for lights out was coming, Loki moved again. He walked over to Tony, squatted down by him, and then let his fingers slide in under his legs and shoulders. Lifting him, picking him up, carrying him over to the bed and placing him on the mattress, before stretching out behind him.

There was just barely enough room for both of them. Tony's forehead was against the wall, as well at his knees. And his knees pressing against the hard surface reminded him of kneeling, something he was pretty damn sure wasn't a coincidence. Close behind him, chest against his back, legs folded in with his, was Loki. Warm and firm and immovable.

It wasn't what Tony would call comfortable, but it was better than the floor. And on a deep, physical level that didn't care about who it was that was actually giving it to him, his body was thankful for the closeness and the touch.

Some primitive part of him, that only cared about basic survival, settled in, and started thinking of this as home. Not that it was safe, in any way, but very few experiences in Tony's life associated home with safety anyway.

Darkness fell, complete, apart from the faint glow from Tony's chest by the wall.

In the darkness, Loki spoke to him. His mouth against Tony's hair, by his ear, the whispered words touching him as warm wafts of breath. Almost seeping in through his skin as much as they were actually heard.

In the darkness, where there was nothing else, Loki's voice quickly became Tony's entire world.

He still fought becoming a part of that world, but he was crumbling. Fast. The pieces of his puzzle were starting to be put into place, and he had nothing to do with it.

”Release me.” Loki's whisper was softly insistent.

”No. I'd rather die.” There was no real conviction in his refusal any more, but he held on, held on so tight it hurt.

”Do you truly value my continued imprisonment over your continued existence?”

”Yes.”

”You are such a poor liar. Death is as much of an insult to you as it is to me. We both know this. You value nothing over your life.”

”I'm not letting you go.”

”It would cost you nothing. You have had your chance at revenge, you have stolen secrets and blood and tears from me. Be content, revel in that, and release what is left of me.”

”I can't.”

”You think so little of yourself. You can do whatever you wish. Release me, set me free, and you can still do anything you want.”

”How is that? You'll kill me anyway, as soon as I open that door.”

”Oh, no, I would not. I might have, before, I will admit it, no matter our bargain. My fickle heart would have forgotten the promise all too soon. But now? No, not now. Your life is mine. _You_ are mine. Every part of you is still here because of my mercy. Every breath you take, I have given you. I own your life.”

”Stop.”

”It is nothing but truth and you know it.”

”Please, don't.”

”Your life is mine.” Loki's lips brushed against the shell of Tony's ear as he spoke. ”Why would I destroy what I own? No, never, there is no sense in that. You will live, I promise you, you will live.”

”What kind of life, though?”

”Any kind you wish. As always. You have had your vengeance, you can let that go now. As you could not, before.”

Tony was silent then. He resented himself for it, but he was beginning to make an attempt at seeing the possibility of it. Of an existence where Loki was free, and he was alive again. _Was_ it even a possibility? He'd never seen it that way. This thing had always felt like the end, no matter what kind of end he had imagined it would take.

Never had he thought of an ”after”.

Loki was trying to offer him that.

Tony didn't want it. Or so he told himself.

”All you need to do, is release me. Let me go. You have taken what you wanted. Release me, and yourself. Be free of it.”

Tony sqeezed his eyes shut, even though he didn't see anything anyway. ”I remember you saying freedom is a lie.”

”So clever.” Loki chuckled against his hair. ”So true. It is. None of us will ever be free again, not truly.”

”Why, then?”

”Do you not prefer the lie? Or at least the opportunity to tell it? You can attempt to forget this, to spend your time on something else, what little time you have. Why waste your time on this, when you could spend it on a sweet lie?”

Tony shook his head against the wall, wordlessly.

”You can stay alive. You can live. You can not be truly free, but you can be _real_ again.”

That made Tony's eyes fly open. It hit some spot, some sore, deep, inflamed spot. A spot that hurt like hell.

And of course, Loki knew he had hit it.

”You do not have to cling to the old, or to me, or anything. You can be _you_ again.” A heat was seeping into Loki's voice, that gave Tony shivers. ”Real. Here. All here. No longer divided.”

”But you would still own me.”

”Yes. I would. But I prefer to own something real, something solid. You are broken apart now, I know, but you could be whole. Real. Alive.” He sighed. ”Oh, Tony, is not that everything you wish for?”

It was the first time Loki had called him something other than ”Stark”, and as much as he wanted to resist, that got to him. There is magic in a name.

”Let me give it to you. All of it.”

Tony shook his head again, but slower, feeling tears wet the mattress under his cheek.

”Let me. Release me, and let me.”

”I hate you.” The words caught in Tony's tight throat, but he got them out.

”I know that you do, and I am not asking you to stop. Let the hate stay, if it helps. I have no desire to change what is in your heart.” Loki's hand moved to rest over his chest. ”Your heart is not what I need. Only your head. The thing that rules you. Hate me, as I hate you, but let me go.”

”You'd still be bound, though. No magic.”

For the first time, Loki hesitated. Just slightly, hardly noticeable, but Tony still noticed.

”There are ways around anything, in the end. I shall find the way around this, as well. It need not be your concern, not if you let me go.”

”I can't!” It was a sob now.

Loki hushed him, breath fanning over his neck, and the long fingers moved up from his chest to his face. Tony shuddered when they swept his tears away.

”Think on it. Sleep on it.” Loki lifted Tony's head, sliding his other, curled up arm in under it, and then holding him around the chest again. Holding him close. Possessively. ”I will still be here, tomorrow.”

Was that meant to be a threat? Or was it an attempt at some kind of fucked up comfort?

Maybe it was both?

Tony was still trying to figure it out, and what it actually made him feel, when he fell asleep.


	15. Do (Not) Resuscitate

The lights coming on again didn't wake Tony up the next day.

The hand that had found it's way back into his pants and was stroking the morning wood nature had supplied it with did, however. Pretty quickly, too. With a startled shout, when he understood it wasn't some lingering dream that had followed him up from his uneasy sleep.

He tried to squirm, turn, move away, but the arm that Tony's head had been resting on slipped down to catch his arms, press them to his chest. One long leg resting almost lazily over his both was enough to keep them in place. Gritting his teeth, trying to hold back, pressing the back of his head painfully hard into Loki's shoulder.

”Why the hell are you doing this?” He tried to tell himself the gravel in his voice was all from sleep. ”You don't even want to. You've already proved your fucking _point_ , haven't you?”

”I proved _a_ point the other day, yes.” The detached tone of Loki's voice clashed so horribly with his actions that Tony tried to cringe, even though he was already stuck. ”This is to prove another.”

”And what's that?” Tony knew he shouldn't ask, shouldn't play along with this sick game, but he was angry and scared and, well, losing his focus. Fast.

”I told you.” Loki's mouth was close by his ear again, as it had been during the dark, whispering hours. ”Your life is mine. You are mine. Outside of this cage, I would let you do with it what you wished, but as long as you keep us both here? No, for now, _I own you._ All of you.”

The hand on his cock drove the emphasis home by pressing harder, seemingly touching every single one of the most sensitive spots on him at once, even though that wasn't even physically possible with the use of only one hand. Didn't matter. It still made him shout again, and not in fear this time. At least, not all fear.

”Screaming, crying, fighting me every single moment. It makes no difference.” Loki sounded pretty much bored. ”I take what I want. Give what I want. Take it away when I want.”

And on que, he let go of Tony, completely, rolling off the narrow bed to walk over to the tray where the first meal of the day was waiting.

Nearly as shocked by this change as by the rude awakening, Tony just stayed in the crumpled up heap where Loki had left him, panting just a bit, shivering a lot.

By the time he had calmed down, come back to reality, he saw that Loki hadn't left him any food at all this morning, and only about a quarter of the water. Enough to swallow down some of the bitter taste the night time whispers had left in his mouth, and nothing more. He was still thirsty, and by now very hungry.

It pissed him off.

Goddamn asshole and his points! Fucker!

Tony spent some time caught in a fit of helpless, frustrated rage. But it burned itself out quicker than he wanted. He just didn't have the energy required to keep it going.

The rest of the day was the same as the one before. Silence. Waiting. Too many, too long, too winding thoughts.

When the next meal arrived, Loki gave him all of it. Probably just to mess with him. String him along. Tony forced himself to eat it anyway, slowly, so his body would keep it down. His stomach still cramped like hell around it when he was done, but it stayed with him, at least.

When darkness came, Loki was once more whispering his sweet, fucked up nothings in Tony's ear.

_(Help me, help me, help me...)_

  


* * *

  


Tony wasn't sure of exactly when or how it happened, but somewhere he started wishing he could believe in Loki. Trust in the endlessly repeated promises that he would be allowed to live. That he would be _alive_ again. Real.

He had no fucking clue how Loki would accomplish that, but that was going to take trust and belief as well. Where the trust and belief were going to come from he didn't know either. But wishing it would come was probably a start. Right?

Next minute, he would turn on himself, kicking and cursing, wondering what the hell he was thinking.

_(Believe in Loki?! You are even more out of your mind than I thought!)_

To be real again, though? Wouldn't that be worth the risk?

_(No! Are you listening to yourself? Nothing is worth that risk! You'll be his. Forever. Just die! Now! Lie down and fucking die already! Foil that fucker!_ Die! _)_

Because he really wanted to die. He did. 

No! Wait! No, he fucking didn't!

Being dead, being the ghost, and making the most of it. Finishing his nasty business. That was one thing.

Wanting to be dead, though? That was another. One that made even the ghost cringe and shift uncomfortably. It didn't feel right.

Somewhere, far off, at a horrifying distance, a man who had once been lost in the depths of uncharted space, was screaming at him.

_(Don't go willingly into that dark fucking night, damn it!)_

And he really wasn't willing to do so. Tony wanted to live, wanted to be real, and alive, and to breathe again. 

He knew, of course, without a doubt, that he could never be who he had been. That Tony Stark _was_ dead and could never come back. But things like that happened to everyone, in one way or another, didn't they? Things changed, you changed, cells died and were replaced by new ones, and you became someone else. And he came to see that he could live with that.

He had to face that he was capable of things that he had never thought he would be. It wasn't pretty or something he could take pride in. But he honestly thought he could live with that as well. 

Tony had taken vengeance. It hadn't been what he had hoped for or thought he had wanted, but things so very rarely are. But there were things he had done he knew had hit home. Things he knew had hurt and gotten the job done. And because of that, he could live with this as well. 

He could consider himself avenged.

Some sort of peace came over him with that thought. Something he hadn't felt in a very long time.

And he knew, that in some dark, strange, fucked up and perverse way, Loki had whispered him back to life. Whispered him real.

And somewhere he knew, that he already believed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Another night with two updates! This one turned out pretty short, but this is where we enter the home stretch...)


	16. Peace Offerings

As Tony had already come to know, all too well, nothing about Loki was ever simple, or easy. Not even giving up and realizing you really had no other choice but to turn your entire fucking life over to him, place it like some fragile gift in his hands, along with your belief and trust, and hope he wouldn't tear it all to pieces. Or, well, especially not that, actually. To be honest.

Believing in Loki was one thing. He had shown Tony by now that he was capable of things that were, well, pretty much miracles. And that didn't even include magic or the ability to heal nearly any wound. Dark miracles, yes, but miracles none the less.

He had done something that Tony would never have thought possible; he had won a complete victory over Tony's head.

Loki wasn't a god. Tony was damn sure of that. And no king, either. But he had brought Tony back from the dead, and he now ruled the life he had given.

Tony believed him to be capable of pretty much anything.

But trust? That was another matter all together. Despite his belief, Tony had no faith. And no trust. Loki himself had said he was fickle, and being capable of anything also meant he was capable of turning on Tony at any moment, going back on any word or promise, take away his gift of life. Undo Tony. Again.

That wasn't something Tony was prepared to take his chances with, at all. He had been to the other side, and it wasn't a place he wanted to visit again any time soon. Now that he was alive again, he sure as hell was planning to stay that way.

How was he going to make that happen? 

Trust takes time. Tony didn't have time. He'd go insane in this glass cage, or starve, before he felt it. And even if he did wake up one morning, after a night full of dark whispers, and suddenly felt it, that didn't mean he would be right to. As soon as he opened the door, Loki might still stab him in the back without a moments hesitation. Or a hint of regret.

He needed something to make them more... even.

They had both done a good job of fucking up the world. They had both done a good job of fucking up each other. But Loki was the only one who had done something that might set things right again.

Tony still owed him. And as long as he did, he was completely at Loki's mercy.

That would get unbearable pretty quickly, and Tony knew it. He didn't want to spend the life he'd been given looking over his shoulder. If he even got to walk out of this room.

He needed to level the playing field. He needed _leverage_.

But how would he find it?

It looked impossible, but that meant nearly nothing to Tony. He didn't give a shit about impossible. Impossible was something lesser men worried about. He was Tony Stark. He had asked impossible to go fuck itself, flown out of a cave in Afghanistan and turned into the Iron Man. ”Impossible” just took a bit more hard thinking, that's all. 

Right now, Tony was doing the hardest thinking he had done in his entire life. And that was saying something. Loki might rule his head, but it was still Tony's head. It was still brilliant, even under the rust.

But a strange thing seemed to happen to his mind when he got into this new thinking. This new focus. Loki had called him divided, and he really had been. Now, his mind was getting back to what it once had been, applying undivided attention to a problem that needed solving. The cogs and gears in his mind started working, was rubbing the rust off, and started to run a lot smoother than they had in a long time.

For the first time, he was able to shut some of Loki's influence out. Not all of it, no, he had to admit that. Not now, and probably never. But the whispers were not everything he heard anymore, they were becoming more of a backgrund noise to his own, private, _real_ thoughts. As his mind was working, applying itself, it grew stronger. Smoother. Turning from iron to steel. Not stainless, the rust would still get to him if he let it, but this was better. This gave him hope.

Even if he somehow didn't come up with a plan in the end, it still made him think he could have some sort of life like this.

Provided Loki let him live...

Damn. There it still was!

He had to think harder.

With the amount of pressure he was applying to his mind now, it would be diamond before he was done. If he was ever done.

Tony turned everything over and over, studied it from different angles until his head hurt. Constructed and discarded a thousand possibilites and solutions. Thought about what he needed done, and what would be the best way to make it happen.

What he actually needed to do didn't take him too long to figure out. It was pretty clear.

Loki had made him real again. Tony needed to do the same for him. He had to give back the one thing he had stolen that had really lessened Loki – his magic. That would make them even, at last, and hopefully also earn him at least some measure of gratitude. If he was lucky.

The question, of course, the billion dollar question, was _HOW?_

According to Loki's guess, only Odin could remove the white gold cuffs Tony had put on his wrists and ankles. And Tony didn't feel like asking for help from Asgard in this. At all. He didn't think they'd listen, or give it. Even if he knew how to get in touch with them. So he had to assume he would have to find a solution for this, all on his own. As always.

He would. He knew he would.

He just had to think harder. A little bit harder still. Push through the pain.

Tony was starting to worry he would give himself a brain aneurysm if he put any more strain on his mind. Wouldn't that be just fabulous? As if the scars he would have from all this wasn't enough, he would have one on his brain as well.

That was just great! He'd probably -

Suddenly, Tony cut himself off. Sitting on the floor, staring into nothing, he could feel his jaw start to drop, but he stopped it.

_(Scars...)_

There was no guarantee this would work, but it might. It just fucking might! And if it didn't? Well, at least it would get him out in the fresh air, one last time.

Might be worth it, just for that.

  


* * *

  


Just like the three similar nights that had already passed by the time Tony had come up with his plan, Loki made him share his bed. This time, Tony was pushed in with his back to the wall, his legs tangled with Loki's, and his face by Loki's chest. An arm and a hand were resting over his waist, holding him, his head allowed to rest on the other curled up arm, and it felt so weirdly intimate it made his hair stand on end.

He swore that this would be the last night he spent like this. No matter what.

”You feel distant.” Loki's lips moved in his hair, giving him even more uncomfortable chills. ”Your head is unruly. I can tell.”

”Yeah, well, you knew that before you made it yours. Comes with the package.”

”So it would seem.” For a moment it was all silent darkness. ”What is moving in that head now?”

Tony made one last survey of his plan, hoped all the files and notes were in order. Guessed Loki would somehow upset all of it in the end anyway. And decided to take his chance.

”Honestly? I've been thinking about what to do. About what you've been asking me to do.”

”Releasing me?” The hand on his back pulled him a bit closer. ”Releasing _us_?”

”That's the one.”

”Have your head arrived at a decision?”

”Yes.”

”Well, aren't you quite the tease tonight.” Loki gave the purr again, but with an edge. ”Tell me.”

”I've decided that you were right. That I should. And that I will.”

For a moment, brief but perfectly noticeable, Loki went completely rigid against him. It had to be shocked surprise. Then the hand quickly left his back, came up to catch his jaw and tilt his head back, as Loki drew slightly away. Tony knew Loki was trying to stare at his face, probably cursing the dark, since they could only make out the faintest hint of each other's features in the cold arc reactor glow.

”Tell me again.”

”I'll release us.”

All was still. Then a full body shudder traveled through Loki, and his hand squeezed hard enough around Tonys jaw to hurt. But he actually guessed that one hadn't been on purpose. Loki had just experienced the mental equivalent of cumming in his pants. You really couldn't blame the guy.

”Oh, Tony...” It was a breathless groan.

Maybe he _had_ cum in his pants?

Tony felt a flicker of excitement in his chest. This was turning out even better than he had hoped. If Loki was already this satisfied, it shouldn't be too hard to get him to agree to the next part of Tony's plan. Maybe he would be a little less inclined to be hesitant, and suspicious of foul play when he was still on a high?

Big maybe. But worth a shot.

_(Will there be foul play? Are you his, or are you not?)_

That was the other billion dollar question.

Tony wished he had an answer for this one too.

”I have thought about one more thing, too.” Loki's grip on him made it a bit difficult to talk, but as soon as he noticed, Loki let go. Which made Tony more sure that he hadn't meant to do it.

”And what would that be?”

”I want you to stay, after I do.”

For the second time, Loki went stiff with surprise. ”What?”

”For a while.”

”Do you take me for a complete fool, Stark?” The temperature of his voice dropped below freezing in an instant. So, no more ”Tony”, then? ”You expect me to stay here, vulnerable, and simply wait for my _brother_ to come get me?” The hand came snaking back, to close on his throat instead. Not pressing, yet, but clearly threatening. ”You think I would keep my promise to you anyway?”

”No, I don't. Hear me out.”

”Then speak. Now!”

”I don't mean I just want to release you of the cell. I want to release all of you.” Tony moved his own hand up Loki's arm as he spoke, felt tense muscles under the skin, and then closed it over the metal cuff. Not to attempt pulling the hand away, just for clarification.

”You said that you could not.” The grip on him grew a bit firmer.

”Maybe I can't. I honestly don't know. But I want to try.” Tony swallowed, knowing full well that Loki could feel him do it. ”I want to try, but I need you to let me. And to do that, you need to let me leave. And wait here.”

”You _do_ take me for a fool!”

”I don't! I need to get supplies that I don't have here in the Tower. I'd come back! _Alone_!”

Loki hesitated. His hand didn't press harder, but it didn't let up, either.

”No.” When the word came, it was lead heavy. ”No, I will not let you go.”

Tony felt his heart drop. ”Then I'm not letting us out.” He refused to live in fear! That was no fucking kind of life!

Loki growled, but the hand on Tony stayed steady. ”Why must you go after these supplies yourself? Can they not be brought here?”

”The person who has them won't come here. And if he did, and saw you... Yeah, I don't want to have to fix another fucking crater in my floor shaped like your backside.”

”The _monster_ has them?”

”Yes. And I can't trust anyone else to bring what I need.” Tony felt another swallow move under the steel fingers. ”So, I kind of need you to trust me to do it.”

”Well, I can not!”

Tony was silent, groaning internally, thinking about giving up all over again.

”I refuse to let you go, and leave me here to wait! That is unthinkable!” Then came another hesitation. ”You would have to take me with you.”

Tony was about to open his mouth to protest this suggestion, when it hit him that the only reason he wanted to, was that he should have thought of that alternative himself. Of course Loki would never agree to stay and wait for him here, like a sitting duck. He _was_ no fool, and Tony knew that. But if he came along... Yes, that might work.

”I could. I will!”

”And with these supplies, you will attempt to release me of my bonds?”

”Yes!” Tony's mouth was very dry now. ”It may turn out that I can't do it, but I'll try.”

Finally, the grip on his throat let up, and the hand slid away to rest over his waist and back again. ”I will need time to think on this. It is not... What I had expected.”

With that, Loki turned silent in the dark, and Tony let his head tilt forward into his chest again, relaxing. He couldn't do anymore about it now. Just wait. Wait, and be insanely proud that he had managed to actually surprise Loki. More than once. And you didn't get many of those chances to begin with.

Tony fell asleep with a smile on his lips that night, still waiting, and still proud.


	17. Monsters and Madness

They were standing in the corner that could open their glass cell up to the world, staring at the clear walls.

Tony was just barely in front, Loki right by his left shoulder, with a hand firmly around the back of his neck. He felt like he was some kind of barely disciplined dog that was about to be taken for a long overdue walk. And he supposed that wasn't too far from the truth. A leash was really all that was missing, but the mere thought, even as an internal joke, almost made him retch.

He had to keep his focus intact. This was the wrong time to freak out.

They had been in the cell together for almost six days. It felt like forever, and in some ways Tony knew he would never really get out. Just like in the void, he would be leaving parts behind. Parts that had been important.

Loki had made his decision during the night, and it was no surprise to Tony that he had chosen to have Tony let them out. He most likely counted on being able to deal with whatever might happen after, and getting out of the cell was his first priority. Seeing the way a few days in there had broken Tony, he could understand that, since Loki had been in there for months.

”Ready?” The hand held his head straight forward, so he couldn't look over at Loki when he asked.

”Of course.”

”All right.” Tony cleared his throat, felt his hands shake. ”JARVIS?”

”Sir?”

”Run override sequence L709O6-5K021I3, would you?”

”Immediately, sir.”

”You put my name in your code?” There was amusement in the soft voice by his shoulder.

”Seemed fitting.”

”Override is in effect, sir.”

Whirring and clicking, the door unlocked and slid gently open. Tony lifted a hand, pushed the wall to the side completely, no risk of it falling closed again. Then he swallowed, and waited. It was the moment of truth above all others.

Loki was free to go. Would he leave with Tony, or would he leave Tony behind, in a puddle of blood?

For what felt like a long time, Loki did nothing at all. Then his grip on Tony's neck grew firmer, pushed him along, and almost side by side, they left the cell. A couple of steps out into freedom, Loki pulled him to a stop. 

Glancing over his shoulder, despite the grip, Tony saw him looking around in the lab. His face was blank and smooth, which Tony was starting to think was his way of covering up the times he thought and felt more than others. Deep waters run still, don't they? Then the blank face turned on him.

”Is there anything you need from this place?”

Tony thought about it, and shook his head. ”Nothing.”

”Then get us out.”

”Sure thing.”

In the elevator, Loki still held on to him, but Tony didn't think about it as much anymore. He had other things on his mind.

”JARV? Could you seal off the lab for me? Completely? I'm not coming back. Ever.”

”Consider it done, sir.”

”And delete everything to do with this. Project files, notes, video, audio. All of it. And then go over it again. I want it _gone_.”

”Of course, sir.”

Loki listened to this exchange, but said nothing.

When they arrived in Tony's private suite and walked out, Loki seemed mildly overwhelmed. His eyes skimmed the rooms, the furniture, the colours, the play of light and shadow that was sunshine, the different textures and forms. At last, he let go of Tony, and walked over to one of the windows. He stood there, a long time, looking out, and Tony found it impossible to stop watching his tense back.

Loki finally left the window and looked at him again. His eyes were huge and bright and suspiciously liquid. But Tony was smart enough not to comment on the fact.

”And now?” His voice was also suspiciously gravelly.

”Now I make a phonecall. Then I would say we both could use proper fucking showers. And then, we find you some kind of disguise. You'll do all right with a disguise, you think?”

”What would be your guess?”

”I mean, without magic and all?”

”Please.” Loki scoffed.

”Sure. Whatever.”

  


* * *

  


Bruce was beyond relieved to hear from him, and didn't even hesitate when Tony asked to come over and get his things back in a couple of hours. Even though there wasn't much left of them.

The shower was the most divine thing that had ever happened to Tony. And clean clothes weren't far behind on the list. He picked a shirt he knew would cover the red, swollen bite mark on his neck. Like a teenager covering up a hickey. Staring at himself in the mirror of the wardrobe, the thought made him burst out in a fit of hysterical laughter. That turned into just as hysterical crying, pretty quickly.

Tony backed away to sit down on the bed, hiding his face in his hands, really fucking happy that Loki was in the shower and couldn't hear or see him.

Relief and fear and anger and helplessness and hope all mingled and poured out of him.

He just got it back together and wiped his face clean before the bathroom door opened and Loki stepped out in a cloud of steam, wet hair heavy on his shoulders. It had grown out a bit during his captivity, but Tony hadn't noticed when it was always tangled and rumpled.

”Right.” Tony sighed, all at once so very weary. ”Disguise.”

The gray pants from the cell would work fine. Back by the wardrobe, Tony found a dark red hoodie that was a bit big on him, but was still slightly short in the sleeves on Loki, and a gray scarf. It wasn't much of a disguise, really, but it looked nothing like Loki's armours, and that was all people had ever seen him in, after all. Everyone knew the leather and the horns, no-one knew his face. Hopefully.

”Yeah, red isn't your colour.”

Loki glared, wrapping the scarf around his neck and then pulling the wet hair free of it. ”I am well aware. Now, are we ready?”

”Guess we are.”

It didn't feel like it, with his heart almost beating out of his chest, but he didn't have much choice.

Coming out of the tower, stepping out in the busy, chaotic city, nearly made his mind crack apart. The amount of impressions, rushing at him at once, was almost impossible to handle. And if it was hard on him, how was it for Loki? 

Tony turned to find out, and almost had another kind of nervous breakdown when he couldn't see Loki anywhere. He whipped around the other way, and finally caught a glimpse of dark red. But that wasn't Loki, was it? Or, was it? Tony was used to seeing the tall, broad shouldered, ever proudly imposing figure, and he could find nothing of that in the slimmed down, huddled up, and oddly shorter person beside him. Even the face seemed different, like the shadows under the wide, pulled up hood shaped other features.

”Yeah, you do all right.”

”I know.”

”So modest, too.”

”Lead the way, Stark.”

Tony hailed a cab, and they were off. He had decided against his own car. It would draw attention, and someone might wonder who Tony Stark was driving around town. He hated not driving himself, but luckily Banner didn't live far away, and he got through it, with just some more threateningly hard hartbeats.

When they got closer, he glanced over at Loki, who was obviously staring out the window of his seat behind the driver.

”You get that you have to wait in the car, right?”

”Yes.” It was a grumble.

”Great.”

The driver pulled up by the right entrance, and Tony leaned forward to speak. ”I'm back in a couple of minutes.”

A shrug. The man didn't give a shit.

As Tony moved for the door, Loki's right arm came up over his chest, grabbing his right shoulder. Tony turned his head back and saw Loki in the stranger's face again, still half hidden under the hood.

”Betray me, and you will beg for a fall to end you.” 

There was no hint of a strain on the voice, a velvet whisper that the driver would never hear, but there was something off about Loki's eyes. The look in them was stiff, just slightly too wide. And Tony knew that look. He had seen it before, when he had still been in some kind of control, when he had had Loki bound and helpless under his blade.

Loki was afraid, and not even managing to hide it completely. He knew who was in that building, he knew he was pretty much fucked if Tony did one wrong move, said one wrong word. Loki was putting his trust in Tony, and Tony could see that his trust didn't amount to much. 

He really couldn't blame him.

Tony stared back, swallowed, and knew that Loki would be able to see his own fear. Nothing about what he was doing was safe, after all.

He could have answered a lot of things, but in the end he just nodded, and that was clearly enough, since Loki let him go, leaning back in the seat, ready to wait. Probably not for long, though.

  


* * *

  


”Are you sure you're all right, Tony? You look pretty worn. Are you sleeping at all?”

”It's fine. But I really need to be going.”

”You can't stay just a minute and tell me what you need the thing back for?”

”I wish I could, but I have to get going. Right now. I'll tell you if I find anything new. Promise.”

”Would be surprised if you did find anything, honestly. So yes, please, do.” A pale smile.

Tony managed to return it. At least he hoped that what he produced looked like a smile.

”Thanks, Bruce. For everything.”

”I didn't do much. Just, take care?”

”I'll try.”

  


* * *

  


Tony just had time to get into the car, place the bulky, white container on the seat beside him, before the arm was pinning him to the back of the seat again.

Loki was even more wide eyed this time. ”You came back. Alone?”

”Yes. I told you I would.”

”Why?” Loki sounded genuinely curious. And in some disbelief.

Tony sighed, pulled a corner of his mouth up in a bitter little smirk. ”Yours, remember?”

”Yes.” The hand on Tony's shoulder squeezed it a bit harder, and then pulled back. A grin flashed in the shadows under the red hood. ”Mine.”

Tony kept his eyes closed the entire drive back.


	18. Some Like it Rough

What finally made Tony see how badly this whole thing with Loki had messed with him wasn't how worried Pepper had been. It wasn't Banner's anxious questions about his health. It wasn't even the fact that he was running around town doing Loki favours.

No, none of that. It was, instead, the realization that he hadn't been inside his workshop since the day Loki had been locked in his lab, still sedated.

Stepping out of the elevator into his old, familiar world, the utter strangeness of the last months hit him like a punch in the face. He stood staring for a long time, taking it all in.

In some ways, it was similar to the lab. It was clean, even surprisingly clean to some, maybe. It was metal and glass and structure. It had _purpose_. But where the lab had been all kinds of death, this place was life. Inspiration, creativity, finding new ways, losing himself in hours of joy, his mind and hands equally busy... Yeah, life. All of it.

His suits, looking at him from their places by the wall, nearly had him in tears. It was like meeting long lost children. Only he had been the prodigal son, hadn't he? They had been right here all along, waiting.

Tony was even happy enough to be reunited with DUM-E that he gave the stupid thing a hug. Which was rewarded by the robot nearly hitting him in the groin. Of course. But he forgave.

Loki followed him there, like a shadow in his wake, as was to be expected, but Tony didn't even care. Here, his mind was clean again, and he knew he could keep Loki out of his head well enough to get the job done. If the job could be done.

Loki looked around, studying everything, but he didn't seem that impressed by any of it. The suits just got a cold glare. When Tony went to place the container on the workbench, ready to get started, Loki sensed the new focus in his actions, and drifted closer.

"You still have not told me anything about how you are planning to do this." Loki was hovering by Tony's shoulder as he opened the container.

"Well, how I'm planning to try, anyway." Tony put the lid away. "Actually being able to do it? That's still highly unclear. Even for me. Much as I hate to admit that."

Slowly and carefully, Tony reached into the crate, and pulled out the vial containing the alien shard he had pulled out of Loki's abdomen. He studied the nasty little thing, and hoped it would prove even nastier than he had thought. He was going to need it to be.

"What is that thing?"

Tony nearly asked him what the hell he was on about, but then he remembered. Of course. He hadn't shown Loki the shard. He had no idea that's what had been inside him for so long. Tony had just gotten used to Loki knowing everyhing, it was hard to remember that he didn't.

"This is my plan. And you brought it with you." He turned to look up at Loki's thoughtful face. "This is what kept your wound from healing."

Loki's brow knitted, as he reached out to take the vial from Tony. He raised it, turned it in his hands, studied it in the bright light of the room. "So. This was it? So much suffering, for so small a thing. Strange." He almost seemed to talk to himself. Then he blinked, and shifted his eyes to Tony. "And you think this will release me of my bonds."

It wasn't really a question.

"I hope. Seeing what it did to you, how it just... Messed up whatever it is that heals you. Yeah, this thing is bad news. And I think that bad news might be exactly what we need."

Loki stared at the shard, the long, delicate hands holding the vial were actually shaking, just slightly. "Yes, bad news. How well you put it." 

”What I was thinking, was that this thing has magic of it's own, and not the nice kind. It migh have what it takes to spring you from those cuffs.”

For a while Loki was silent, going over this in his head, then he turned bright eyes on Tony's face.

”You truly are brilliant.” What pulled at Loki's mouth then was no grin. It was a smile. A real, honest smile. ”You may turn out to be the most perfect thing ever to be in my possession.”

Tony would never admit to anyone the disturbing amout of pleasure he got out of that little bit of messed up praise. Ever.

  


* * *

  


Tony worked until his eyes no longer would stay open.

He went to bed, with Loki still as his shadow, and wasn't surprised when he wasn't allowed to sleep alone, even here, in his own bed. At least this bed was wide enough for both of them, and then some, and Loki kept his distance. Tony was too tired to care.

The next day was the same as the last.

Tony worked, thought, planned, redid everything, worked some more, and was happier than he had been in weeks.

Loki watched, waited, fretted, and was obviously not very happy, but wouldn't leave the workshop anyway.

Tony finally managed to find a way to sharpen the shard. He still had no idea what kind of material it was made out of, and it broke most tools he tried using on it. It was a mess. But at last, it was the way he wanted it. And now, fitting it into a contraption to cut Loki free. That actually felt like the easy part, but it would still take time.

When they went to bed, once more to share Tony's, he was pleased with the day's work, but he could sense almost palpable waves of unease and impatience rolling off Loki as he twisted and turned, rumpling the sheets and pulling at the covers. Tired and annoyed, Tony finally turned around, to find Loki on his back, hands under his head, staring up into the shadows under the ceiling.

"You don't have to sleep, but could you stop flopping around like a fish on dry land? You're driving me nuts."

Loki angled his head to glare.

"I need some rest if I'm going to get this done, you know. If I can get it done at all."

"You can and you will."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but you realize it may be that it just won't work?"

"No. That is not an option. It has to work." 

”It's not really up to me to -”

Loki flipped around, a hand clamping down over his mouth. ”I do not care! You will, if it is the last thing you do!”

It may have sounded like raging stupidity, asking the possibly impossible, but Tony saw the frustration and desperation burning and flaring, shooting sparks. And then suddenly, it was all snuffed out. He thought Loki would draw away from him then, but instead, the opposite happened.

With his hand still on Tony's mouth, Loki moved closer, almost gliding over the sheets, until he was pretty much on top of Tony, pushing him down in the mattress.

”Perhaps you simply need the right motivation.” Loki was staring right into his eyes, but the look in them went right through Tony's head. Blind.

A hand tore the covers between them away, grabbing at him, cruelly, and Tony heard his own muffled cry behind Loki's palm. Still, he knew it was making him hard, wishing it hadn't, when Loki shifted over him, shifting him, and he felt something even harder against the outide of his thigh.

Well, shit.

Tony knew what was coming, and he was surprised to find out that he didn't think it would be the worst thing that could possibly happen. Like he had thought before. Like it had been when he had done it to Loki. His frame of reference had changed since then.

What was worse, was that Loki seemed so... off. He'd been detached and disinterested before, but now he was distant, cut off. And that was new. Whatever Loki was, however insane, he was one of the most _present_ people Tony had ever met. He was there in the things he did, in everything, even the horrible things.

Now he wasn't. There was just dark, empty space behind his eyes.

That was a lot worse than what Loki was actually doing. It freaked Tony out.

Tony knew he could survive being put through this, the payback, the pain, the humiliation, all of it. If he had to, he could take it. Literally and figuratevely. But not alone. He couldn't do it alone. Someone needed to be there, even if it was only the man doing it to him.

So Tony twisted, lashed out, faught, with everything he had. He couldn't stop Loki, but maybe, just maybe, he could wake him up.

It didn't seem to work though, and when he was flipped over, pushed down on all fours, Loki over his back, at least he didn't have to see the void behind those green eyes. That was a relief, but he still didn't give up.

”Damnit! Stop!” His words were barely there.

All he got was a growl, shins pressed into the back of his calves so hard he thought the bones would snap, and a hard grip on his arm, twisting it around and back, that felt like his shoulder might pop out of its socket any second. A gand grasped at the elastic of his underwear, and it got even harder to speak, but he got the words out, between pained and panting breaths.

”This is... So fucking... _Unnecessary!_ ” 

The last word felt like it had ten more syllables than usual, but he still got through it. Luckily, since that seemed to be the word that gave Loki at least some pause.

”How is that?”

”Are you kidding me?! You already know you don't have to force me. You proved that point, remember? Don't bother asking me why! I can't tell you, because I don't know. But I'm _yours_ , and you know it.”

”Then why fight me?”

Tony managed to turn his head enough to get a glimpse of Loki's face, even though it put even more strain on his already tortured shoulder. After the blank stare before, it was almost a shock to see his face now. There was so much moving over his features that it was hard to make all of it out, but there was a clear streak of disgust _(Well, thank you for that one, then!)_ and also rage, and hate, both equally cold, and something that seemed more directed at Loki himself, some loathing that Tony didn't think was for him.

”Because you don't want to do this! For some reason you think you have to, but you don't want it.” Tony gritted his teeth, forced himself to keep his head turned. ”And I'd be _damned_ if I'd let myself get fucked for nothing! I can't stop you doing what you want, you _know_ I can't! But why do what you don't?”

Loki stared at him. ”Does it make any kind of difference to you?”

”Yeah, it does!” Tony glared at him. ”Because it's useless! Which, honestly, makes me sort of useless. And I really don't think I have to explain why that fucking bothers me. You fear being useless, just as much as I do.”

At first, Loki seemed at a loss for words. Then he suddenly let go and moved back, as if Tony had burned him.

”You see?” Tony turned as quickly as he could, cradling his poor, abused left arm in his right. Even the weight of it hurt him. ”I knew you'd understand.”

”That is enough.”

”No. You know what? Fuck you and your glorious fucking purpose!” Tony was almost spitting the words out, overcome by a rush of anger. ”You don't have one, and you hate it. Sure, you can try taking it out on my ass, but that wouldn't work and you'd still be useless!”

”Enough!” Loki's mouth twisted into a snarl.

”No! Nothing's ever enough, right?” Tony raised himself up to stand on his knees, and was actually towering over Loki, who was huddled up at the foot of the bed. ”Twisting my head, biting me bloody, I get that, because you enjoy doing that. _We both_ enjoy doing things like that. But this? This is pontless! Do what you want. At least be of some use to yourself!”

They stared at each other.

”As soon as you get these bindings off me, I will make you regret your words tonight.” Loki's voice was frost.

”Yeah, you sure know how to motivate a guy, you ingrate!” Tony turned away, getting down to curl up on the bed, wincing when it hurt his shoulder. ”Now, fuck off. You're sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Three seconds later, Tony was forcefully pushed off the bed, landing on his sore shoulder, screaming at the pain of impact. Then Loki was on him, turning him, to place another backhand across his face, slamming the head Tony had been lifting back to the floor.

Looking up, blinking away tears, he was immediately caught by the glowing, green eyes.

”I really have no desire to destroy what I own. But if you keep testing me, I will. Never doubt that.”

He held Tony's gaze for a moment, then got to his feet and walked out.

Groaning, Tony turned onto his right side, to spare his left. His shoulder was an inferno of ice and fire, a disaster zone, and his face felt the same, even before he noticed blood running from his nose.

But it was still nothing compared to the inside of his head. It was reeling and raving, trying to make sense of a world turned upside down, were nothing was what it should be and he didn't even want to feel what he felt.

_(Because how do you come to terms with the realization that you would rather have a man want to force himself on you, than him not wanting you at all?)_

”I'm so done for.” Tony wheezed out a laugh through his swollen nose. ”So fucking done for.”

At least Barton and Selvig had been under a spell. One that had been broken, released them, and explained everything they had done. To Tony, this was the new world he now lived in, the reality he had to face, for however long it lasted.

Wasn't life just a _bitch?_

Tony peeled himself off the floor, washed his face in the sink in the bathroom, and then got back in bed. Alone. He was asleep in seconds.

The next day, his shoulder was sore as hell, but better. He had an impressive black eye, and his nose was still swollen.

Gorgeous.

Tony turned his back on the mirror, and went to the workshop.

Some time later in the day, Loki joined him there, quietly. Tony hardly noticed, lost in complete focus. The only safe space he had left.


	19. Unbound

”Could you come over here a minute?”

”Why?” 

”Measurements. Important. Please? Thank you? Shut up? Just get over here so I can get it done.” Tony didn't even look up from the device. Either Loki would do as he was asked, or he wouldn't. If he wanted the thing to work, he had better.

The long, gray legs came into his field of vision after a few moments silence.

”Put your arm here.” Still not looking up, Tony gestured to the space shaped to fit the cuff, to keep it and Loki's arm steady and secure. 

A sigh, but then the arm slid into place. ”I suppose this is necessary?”

”Well, yes. I don't want to accidentally cut your hand off. Fuck if I know why. Not like your hands have done me any good so far, but whatever.”

Tony started to reach out to make the needed measurements, to prep the device correctly, but when he did, Loki's arm was removed again. Now it was his turn to sigh. He closed his eyes, so weary.

”I'm not done.”

He almost jumped out of his skin when he suddenly felt Loki placing very gentle hands on him, cupping the palms around his jaw, fingertips brushing into the hair behind his ears. They tilted his head back, so Loki could see his face. It still looked like shit. The nose was no longer swollen, but his skin had a lot more colours than it should. Tony opened his eyes to stare straight into Loki's.

The black brows were slightly pulled together, the expression thoughtful, maybe even worried. Or was he just imagining the last bit?

”I lost control.” Loki's voice was so soft Tony almost had to read the words off his lips.

”You what?”

One hand moved, and a thumb brushed by his healing eye. ”You were right. I took my frustrations out on you. The one trying to help me. I should not have.”

Tony really had no words.

”It will not happen again.” Loki held on to him for a moment, then let go and backed away, slowly.

Tony opened his mouth, trying to talk, and nothing came out. He cleared his throat and tried again.

”Guess you do know how to motivate a guy, after all.”

He had almost expected a smile, or a grin, a glint in the eye, anything to say ”yeah, I played you again and you know it”, but there was just the same thoughtful expression on Loki's features still. Not that that had to mean anything, of course. Then Loki moved back to the contraption, placed his arm where it should be, and waited.

After a brief hesitation, Tony went back to work.

  


* * *

  


Later that night. A lot later. So late it was more like early the next day, probably, they were huddled at opposite ends of the kitchen table, eating what was supposed to be dinner but migh be considered breakfast due to the time of day. Tony shuffled the remains of scrambled eggs around the plate, lost in thought.

After a while, he looked up to find that Loki had put the utensils down, had his elbows on either side of the plate, forehead resting on his palms, fingers in his hair. What little showed of his face was tense.

Tony froze. He was so used to getting the poker face or the ”fuck off and die” face that he didn't really know how to handle something that looked pained.

Before he had given himself time to think it through, he felt words come out of his mouth that blew his own mind.

”You're not useless.”

Loki startled. If it was the sound or the words was hard to tell. He pulled his hands to the sides, still hovering in the air, and lifted his head to face Tony. He wore the expression Tony now thought of as his shield, the one that he knew hid the deep things.

He said nothing.

”I'm not the only brilliant one here, you know. You're so perceptive it's its own kind of magic. And bloody tenacious.” Tony wanted to look away from the intense stare, but couldn't. ”Whoever tried to use you before, or for what, if they failed, I'm damn sure it was because you wanted them to. Not because of something you lacked.”

That finally made the green eyes blink, and Tony could tear his away, to look down at the plate again.

_(Yeah, that was weird and awkward and what the hell just happened?)_

After a few minutes silence, Tony got to his feet and walked out. Not looking back. Leaving the plate on the table.

He was left alone in the bed when he went to sleep.

  


* * *

  


”What if it doesn't work?”

They stood side by side, staring at the finished piece of machinery.

”Then I find another way. There is always another way.”

Something told Tony Loki didn't believe in ”impossible” either.

”And what about me?”

Loki was silent for so long that Tony almost choked on his own heart, crawling up his throat.

”I do not know.”

”Well, then.” Tony sighed. ”Might as well get this started.”

He moved over to the control panel, and Loki placed his hand where it was supposed to be, the cuff clicking into place.

”Ready?”

”No.”

Tony chuckled darkly, and started the machine, that proceeded to shift into position, and then moved the now wickedly sharp alien shard so it was exactly above the cuff. It had turned out both items had almost exactly the same length. Tony loved it when shit worked out like that. Slowly the powerful machinery started pushing the edge down against the metal that looked like white gold, pressing. 

At first, nothing seemed to happen, really. But Tony let the machine keep working, hoping.

Then, he saw what looked like patches of rust, only black instead of red, spread across the surface of the cuff. It turned less shiny, became brittle looking, little by little, and then, without further warning, and with a loud, ringing sound, the cuff broke.

It turned out, Tony's measurements hadn't been entirely accurate. It had been hard making them, under the metal, and he had miscalculated. The edge, meant to stop before it touched Loki, came down too far, and cut into the back of his wrist. Couldn't be more than a few millimeters, but the reaction was worse than Tony could have imagined.

For the second time ever, he got to hear Loki scream. And this time, it gave Tony no kind of satisfaction what so ever. It was all pain this time. Tony could almost feel it searing into himself, just from the sound Loki made.

But even in that anguish, Loki was cool headed enough to realize that trying to pull his arm away from the still lowered blade and the sharp remains of the cuff, would hurt him even worse. With the left hand gripping his right just below the elbow, so hard the knuckles were white and Tony almost could hear the bones grind against each other, Loki held still.

It was the most impressive display of physical willpower Tony had ever seen. And he hoped he would never see anything like it again.

He threw himself at the controls, pressing the emergency stop button, and the machine instantly pulled away and stopped.

Loki drew his arm away, as carefully as he could. He stopped screaming when the blade left him, but he was still panting, making moaning and whining noises deep in his probably sore throat. Gripping his bleeding wrist, he fell down on his knees, bending over at the waist.

Tony felt slightly shocked, he had to admit it. And under the shock, he was searching himself for any of the old reactions, the excited arousal triggered by Loki's pain and blood and suffering. He didn't find them. He didn't know if he was surprised or not. But he did know he was surprised when he stepped up and squatted down by Loki's side, grabbing his shoulder to sit him up straight, so he could see what damage his mistake had caused.

It didn't look like much, a red, bloody, inflamed cut that had only just bit into flesh. But it was healing, just slowly knitting together at the edges, although that seemed to hurt too. Tony found himself gripping Loki's shoulder harder, and felt him lean just slightly into the hand, for support.

When the cut was gone, leaving behind just the faintest trace of a silver scar, Loki raised the left hand to wipe away the blood, and then grip around his own wrist. Bare, finally. He met Tony's eyes.

”You did it.” He coughed out a shocked laugh through a wide, tear streaked grin. ”It worked.”

”Don't get too excited now.” Tony felt he had to remind him. ”We have three left to go, and I will need to make adjustments with the right measurements, and you should -”

” _No_!”

”What?”

”No adjustments. We keep going. Now!”

”It's... Going to be the same for the other arm. And if I calculated wrong there, chances are the ankles will be the same. Or even worse.”

Loki's arm shot up to grab Tony's shoulder, just like Tony was still holding his. ”We. Keep. Going. Now!”

”All right!” Tony twisted to get out of the painful squeeze. ”Shit! Easy! We keep going!”

They did. And it turned ut Tony had been right. The other arm was the same, and the ankles really were even worse. The shard cut in deeper there. Loki, lying on the floor for that part of the work, was actually bashing the back of his own head against the floor in his efforts to stay still before Tony could get him loose after the first one.

When that had healed up, Loki was still flat on his back on the floor. Tears were streaming down the sides of his face, uncontrollably, every line of that face a tortured mess.

Suddenly a thought hit Tony. 

What if he hadn't sent the shard off to Banner? What if he had seen the effect of the shard on Loki, and decided to use it on him some more? If this effect had been applied to Loki while he had still been drugged and fettered and helpless?

He knew the answer. He knew he had held the tool that could have broken Loki. Had had it all along, and never known.

Somehow, he felt no regret. Only relief.

_(Bad enough as it was, really. This is too much. This is too much for anyone. I am avenged, and then some. Please, just let it be over.)_

He also realized the extent of the favour he had done Loki, by pulling this thing out of his body in the first place. His tissues had done what they could to protect him from it's corruption, but seeing this... The amount of pain Loki must have been in since before arriving on Earth? Tony couldn't even imagine it.

Placing Loki's other leg in the machine, Tony could hear him sobbing. But Loki still didn't resist, didn't pull away. So Tony gritted his teeth, did what had to be done, made sure it was over as quickly as possible. And afterward, he helped Loki get back up off the floor, led him to the elevator, to the suite, into the bedroom, and into the bed. Still covered in blood and dirt off the workshop floor. 

Loki sprawled out on the covers, bonelessly limp, and seemed to be asleep before he was all the way down.

Tony watched him for a minute, or two hours. He didn't know. Then he curled up by the foot of the bed, out of the way of the long, spread out limbs, and fell asleep too. Knocked out by the shock of it all.

  


* * *

  


He woke up to the feeling of the bed dipping as Loki moved, sat up, and got to his feet. Tony flipped round, rubbed his face, and looked up.

Loki stood in the middle of the room, studying his own bare arms, unbound. He flexed the long fingers, straightened his back, shoulders coming back, chest lifting. Then he seemed to sense Tony's eyes on him, and met them.

It was only then that Tony fully understood how much of Loki had been dulled by the cuffs, how much of him had been held back. Magic, and power, and spirit. If the green eyes had glowed before, they were now shining, radiating light from some inner part of him that was bright as a fucking sun. The grin on his face was wild and wicked. As Tony watched, he raised his hands slightly out from his side, shimmered, and was no longer the slim man in gray, but once more the menacing, leather covered conqueror.

Loki slowly took a step towards the bed, and Tony got to his feet to meet him. It was intimidating sitting down in front of this figure. Standing in front of him, too, but a bit better, at least.

”You released me, Tony.” He looked down at his hands again, even though the wrists were now hidden under other metal, his own vambraces, then back up. ”You made me real.”

”That's what I owed you.” Tony's voice wasn't completely steady. ”I paid you back. Now we're even. Finally.”

_(Even. But you are still his, aren't you?)_

_(Shut up.)_

His head tilting to the side, Loki frowned at him. As if he had heard his thuoughts.

”Asgard will want to know why you released me. Why you broke your promise.”

”Yeah, well, I guess I'll just have to tell them the truth then, don't I?”

Loki raised an eyebrow.

”I'll just tell them that there is no fucking way to make use of you, if even I couldn't find one.” 

Loki laughed. 

It was the first really, honestly joyous sound Tony had ever heard him make. When it passed, Loki took the last step up to Tony, smiling down at him, looking almost... proud? Or just smug? A little of both?

”You truly are mine.”

”You doubted it?”

”No. But it still pleases me.”

”Great. Now, will you kindly get the fuck out of here and leave me alone?”

”I will.” Loki backed a couple of long steps away from him. ”For now, my most perfect possession.”

The wide, wicked, insane, impossible grin was the last thing Tony saw. Then it was all green light, and then nothing.

Absolutely nothing at all. 

It was really, really fucking strange.


	20. Bound

Tony told no-one when Loki left. Not a soul.

For three weeks, nothing happened. He went back to life as it had been, in many ways. Once more spending time in the workshop, where he now was trying to make the alien shard a part of the weaponry on one of his suits. If he could just be sure whatever it radiated was insulated, it should be a great last line of defense. No matter what thing managed to come close enough to him that he needed to use it, would most likely go down.

At least Tony knew it worked on Loki. And that might be enough.

The only thing he knew, was that Loki had said goodbye ”for now”, and he was counting on that to not be the last time they met. Under what circumstances Loki might return was highly unclear, on the other hand. 

He might as well arm himself. To fight alone. Because that's what Tony did.

While he worked, he waited for any word from Asgard, but there was none. Maybe they didn't know he was free? Maybe they didn't care? Made no difference to Tony, really. He was glad to be rid of it. All of it.

Only, of course, he wasn't. He might think to himself that he had washed his hands of all things Loki, but in reality, he was just waiting for the sand in the hourglass turned by that ”for now” to run out.

Come what may when it did.

Tony had released Loki, but inside, he knew they were both still bound, to each other. There was no way to do the things they had done to each other and not be bound. Forever. They both knew things about the other that no-one else knew. Had seen things never meant to be seen. That could never be unseen.

They had spilt blood and tears and secrets and things like that could never be undone.

On the other hand, maybe Loki had just played him. Again. Messed with his head. Made Tony think he was coming back when he never would. Because why should he, really? What was there for him here? Other than a possession left behind?

At least Tony was alive again. Real.

But he wasn't all here. He was still divided. One part still belonged to his unfinished business.

  


* * *

  


It was some fundraiser. He thought so, at least. Or were they giving out some award? Well, he hadn't gotten one, so it couldn't really be that important if that was it.

Tony found himself slipping away from the bustle of whatever kind of party it was. With a glass of scotch in his hand he happened upon a wide, sweeping balcony that reminded him of the Tower, and walked out into the cool, quiet night. Or, as quiet as it ever was above Manhattan. He leaned on the railing, loosened his tie a bit, and sipped his drink.

He didn't think much for once, just felt the wind in his hair and the warmth in his chest and for once, everything was kind of peaceful.

”A fall is not such a horrible death, Stark.” That voice he would have recognized anywhere. ”At least, not one that ends.”

Tony didn't turn, just took a fortifying swallow from his glass. 

”You here to push me over?” Looking down at the street below suddenly wasn't very appealing, and Tony raised his head to look up at the clouds, coloured by the city lights.

”Actually, I was wondering if you were contemplating taking matters into your own hands.”

”I didn't miss you _that_ much.”

Tony heard a soft chuckle by his left shoulder, and caught movement on the edge of his peripheral vision. Instinct more than anything else made him turn his head towards it.

No armour this time. No gray prison garb either, of course. Just a very dark green shirt and black suit pants. The sleeves of the shirt were casually rolled up, and there was just enough light to make out the fine scars running up the back of his wrists when his hands came to rest on the railing. His hair was brushed back, tidier and softer than before, and he looked like he had gained some weight, no longer as hollow under the cheekbones.

”But you did miss me?” Loki was still giving Tony his profile when he spoke.

Tony sighed, emptied his glass, and then glanced up at the white profile again. ”Considering the fact that you are standing right there, I might ask you the same thing.”

”I am merely protecting my interests.” Loki met his eyes now. His own were still the shining green, light reflecting off something inside him that hadn't been there before. ”You are mine, after all, and have proved yourself most useful.”

Frowning, Tony shifted his weight to lean his elbow on the railing instead, to half face Loki. ”You really did think I was going to jump, didn't you?”

”Not truly. You did not look insulted enough to stand facing death.” A smile hinted in the corners of his mouth. ”But I would rather not risk it.”

”You have been keeping an eye on me, then?”

”I told you. I protect my interests.”

Playing with the empty glass in his hands, Tony studied him for a moment. Thinking. Evaluating facts.

”You lied to me in that cell, didn't you?”

”Most likely more than once. Is there one lie in particular which has caught your eye now?”

”You said you would let me live my life the way I wanted. But you won't, will you?”

Loki's smile widened. ”No, I will not.” His voice was firm, but not really unkind.

Tony let his gaze wander out over the endless city around them, sparkling in the darkness. He had known he would never be free. _(Life's great lie, remember?)_ He wasn't surprised. Still, he supposed it could be worse. He was a possession, but at least a prized one.

There would be purpose in his life. It might even be glorious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly can't believe i't over. It's been one hell of a nasty ride, and I loved it. And it felt like a lot of you did as well. That makes me so happy, I can't even tell you. <3


End file.
